


The 7 Serpents

by TheEndlessHourglass



Series: The 2 Trios Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Basilisk(s), Fixing Ron, Good Basiilisk, Good Slytherins, Mentor Remus Lupin, Mentor Severus Snape, Other, Parseltongue, Pureblood Culture, Sister Problems, Sister-Sister Relationship, Slytherins Being Slytherins, they are not orphans, triplets written by an actual triplet, werewolf problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-06-25 14:48:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 37,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15642963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEndlessHourglass/pseuds/TheEndlessHourglass
Summary: It would have been simple to worry about normal problems. But being a werewolf put in the wrong house while a Basilisk is on the loose under the control of three possible suspected Parselmouths? Impossible.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Book 2]

Jessica grabbed her small bag of tools, none of which she ever used for what Gran would define as  _ good. _ But that was fine; she wasn’t going to be good. She was sneaking out of the Burrow behind three ginger Weasleys to a flying car she was forbidden to go near.

 

“Got it?” Fred whispered when she scooted into the car. She raised the bag.

 

“Ready when you are, slow pokes,” she teased.

 

“Oi, it’s Ron who’s being slow. He doesn’t have the practice that we do,” George sniggered from the driver’s seat. Ron scowled.

 

“Practice of what?” the second year demanded.

 

“Breaking the rules, ickle Ron,” Fred answered. He received an attempted shove from Ron, though he couldn’t reach.

 

“We need to get going,” Ron grumbled, crossing his arms and glaring out the windshield.

 

“Right, off to save Harry,” George agreed, and turned the car on. They backed out of the driveway before slowly taking off, leaving the ground to soar into the clouds. Jessica eagerly looked out her window, having never flown by car before. It was a disappointing sight, there was hardly anything to see in the blank night. There wasn’t even an interesting smell to catch her attention.

 

Halfway there, Jessica caught Ron’s eyelids sliding down.

 

“Thought you said you could handle staying up all night,” Jessica prodded. Ron’s eyelids flew all the way open before he shot her a sharp look.

 

“What does she have to be here for anyway?” Ron asked.

 

“Do you really think they could pull something like this off without  _ me?”  _ Jessica asked, grinning.

 

“Yes,” the twins answered in unison.

 

“We just brought you along—” Fred started.

 

“—’cause we thought it would be rude not to,” George finished.

 

“As if you could do  _ anything  _ without my guiding expertise,” the soon-to-be-Gryffindor scoffed teasingly, crossing her arms to further the act.

 

“‘Guiding expertise,’” George mimicked. “More like annoying—”

 

“—irritating—”

 

“—picky suggestions that—”

 

“—we obviously already knew—”

 

“In the first place,” they both finished. Jessica responded to that immature lie in the most sophisticated way: sticking out her tongue.

 

So was the way of the troublemaker trio, as it had been for five years, ever since that fateful day in Zonko’s joke shop. She had hidden there from her older sisters, who had been teasing her relentlessly throughout the day for one thing or another. Fred and George were hiding from their mother after they attempted to sneak into Knockturn Alley for the thirty-fourth time. They found her, and one thing led to another. By the end of the day, she had stolen four items from unsuspecting shoppers that the trio later used to make an extensive ‘going away’ prank on Charlie Weasley the day before he was to leave for Hogwarts.

 

It was quiet the rest of the way. All of them were tired. Fred had to flick George to keep his eyes on the sky and Ron had fallen asleep at least three times. Jessica was proudly sitting on the ‘my eyes didn’t close once’ award, but to be fair she’d had practice staying up all night.

 

Oh, the perks of being a werewolf.

 

“Is that it?” George asked, pointing to a house among the countless little settlements along the winding streets. It was dark despite having descended from the clouds. The city was asleep.

 

“Number four Privet Drive,” Ron repeated to his older brother. “Do the numbers go down that way, or up that way?. . .Look!”

 

He was pointing at a window with awful looking bars on them.

 

“Bars?” George said.

 

“That has to be his house! Only his aunt and uncle would do something like that!” Ron exclaimed. George proceeded to drive up to the window as quietly as the flying car could manage. They parked the car right up next to the house and rolled down the windows.

 

“Harry!” Ron called. No answer. “Harry, come on!”

 

“He’s probably asleep,” Jessica said sensibly. Ron narrowed his eyes. Then, without a thought in the world, he reached over and rattled the bars, making a noise louder than a tussle between Remus and Jessica in their wolf forms.

 

“Are you  _ trying  _ to get us caught?” Jessica asked. Ron shot a glare at her just as she saw the Boy-Who-Lived walk up to the window, blinking away sleepiness.

 

Jessica looked at him from head to toe as he opened his window. He wasn’t as impressive as Delilah made him out to be. Small, scrawny, dumb-looking, and obviously clueless. Made sense why he was a Seeker. Still, she had to admit seeing his scar up close was pretty wicked.

 

“ _ Ron _ ?” Harry asked in total disbelief. Merlin, he was  _ slow. _

 

Jessica shoved the redhead second year aside, a rope in her hand. She pulled it out to let Harry get a good look at it. “Hey, famous person, catch this and tie it to the bars.”

 

She threw it, and despite his groggy state the Boy-Who-Lived managed to catch it. He fumbled the rope around the bars, tying it as tightly as he could.

 

“Now stand back unless you fancy getting skewered,” Jessica told him. He took a few hasty steps back as George turned the car.

 

“If the Dursley’s wake up, I’m dead,” Harry told them.

 

“Don’t worry,” Fred told him.

 

George stepped on it. It took all the car’s power, but the bars popped off. Jessica helped haul them into the backseat, throwing them down at the floorboard as George went to drive back to the window.

 

“Get in,” George ordered.

 

“But—all my Hogwarts stuff—my wand, my broomstick—”

 

Fred got his ‘I have an idea’ look. “Where is it?”

 

“Locked in the cupboard downstairs. I can’t get out of this room—”

 

“No problem,” George announced, grinning. “Get out of the way, Harry.”

 

The twins squeezed through the car door and leapt through Harry’s window, Jessica right on their heels with her bag in hand. The twins went straight to the door as she got up and brushed herself off.

 

“Who are you?” Harry asked.

 

“Jessica Coppin,” she answered automatically. Harry gave an ‘ah-ha’ look.

 

“So you’re Amanda’s younger sister!”

 

Jessica narrowed her eyes. “No, I’m Jessica Coppin.”

 

She went around him and handed the twins the lockpicking tools without a word. For a bit they fiddled with the door. Once it clicked and opened, Jessica darted around the twins, out the door, and into the hallway. She followed the snores of Harry’s aunt and uncle into their bedroom and set down a little plastic device behind a picture frame. She wound it up and popped out of the room, finding Harry’s cousin’s room simply by smell alone thanks to how much he reeked. She set down a few poorly wrapped candies (that were actually not candies at all) on a dresser and tucked a second device into a concealed area underneath some furniture.

 

“Have fun with that,” she said. She waited for the device to start spitting out the stinky gas. The eleven-year-old werewolf took a deep breath and held it as she rushed back to the hallway, sparing the first bedroom only a glance to make sure the device was doing its work in that room as well before finding her way back to Harry’s room.

 

“All set,” she said to the Boy-Who-Lived. “They won’t wake for a while now.”

 

“What did you do?” he asked curiously.

 

“Oh, just a little device we invented a few months ago,” she said proudly. “Spits out a gas form of a potion. It can fill up a room in just a few minutes.”

 

“What about when they wake up? They might think  _ I—” _

 

“Harry, Harry, Harry. First rule about stealth pranking: don’t get caught. We built the device so it turns off and shrinks on its own. The smell doesn’t last long either. By tomorrow, they’ll all wake up completely normal, and the device will just look like a piece of lint, if they manage to find it at all.”

 

“Jessica, a little help,” George said, pulling up the trunk.

 

It took them about ten minutes to get that stupid trunk in. Finally, after getting Hedwig into the car, they drove off into the boring clouds again, and Harry dove straight into a story about a house-elf named Dobby warning him not to come back to Hogwarts.

 

“Very fishy,” said Fred.

 

“Definitely dodgy,” George agreed.

 

“Well, you shouldn’t believe it,” Jessica declared.

 

“Why not?” Harry asked.

 

“Because Dobby is the Malfoy’s house-elf,” she answered. “And he hates you. He probably sent Dobby to you to try to convince you not to go back to Hogwarts. Sounds like something that prat would do.”

 

"Malfoy? But Amanda promised she’d stop Malfoy from going at it so much,” Harry told her.

 

“Those two didn’t talk much this summer. They got into a big fight on the train back to Hogwarts and Amanda refused to stay over at his house or write to him at all. Not that he stopped writing  _ her _ ,” Jessica explained. Harry’s fierce green eyes had betrayal in them.

 

“Why did you promise anything to Amanda anyway? She’s a Slytherin,” Ron said. She looked to Jessica as if remembering she was related, but the black-haired, soon-to-be first-year shrugged. Loads of people hated Amanda, including her.

 

“Amanda helped us fight Quirrel and Voldemort,” Harry pointed out.

 

“Oh, don’t go through that story!” Jessica groaned, scooting away. “No one at home will shut up about it!” 

 

It was truly the most annoying story in the world for Jessica. For two months and over three times a day she heard about how amazing it was that Delilah the Hufflepuff broke the Imperious Curse and attempted to fight Quirrell. Then, how courageous  _ Amanda _ was for going through the trapdoor after her, nearly  _ dying _ at the hands of Voldemort as she tried to give Harry enough time to take the Stone and run. Finally, Audrey would pipe up and repeat how grateful she was for being saved from the Forbidden Forest by their oldest sister Elena.

 

Jessica would have loved to just use a memory charm on all of them, but alas, she couldn’t control her magic yet. ‘ _ Just a few more weeks,’  _ she thought excitedly.

 

Just before dawn, they touched down to the ground and arrived at the Burrow. Quickly, Jessica got out of the car.

 

“It’s not much,” said Ron, hopping out beside Harry, who was looking at the Burrow as if it were a castle.

 

“It’s wonderful!” Harry exclaimed. Jessica rolled her eyes.

 

“Now, we’ll go upstairs really quietly,” said Fred, “and wait for Mum to call us down for breakfast. Then, Ron, you come bounding downstairs going, ‘Mum, look who showed up last night!’ and she’ll be all pleased to see Harry and no one need ever know we flew the car.”

 

“Make sure to mention you got here because of Hagrid or something,” Jessica brought up. Harry nodded.

 

“Right,” said Ron. “Come on, Harry. I sleep at the—at the top—”

 

Facing the house, Ron looked like a deer who had just noticed it was being stalked by a werewolf. Turning, Jessica saw why.

 

Mrs. Weasley was marching down their way, fuming more than the Filibuster fireworks the troublemaking trio often played with.

 

“Ah,” said Fred.

 

“Oh dear,” said George.

 

The woman stopped before them with her hands on her hips, attempting to stare them down. It was rather hard when at least three of them were used to being in a constant state of “in trouble.”

 

“So,” she said in the angriest voice ever.

 

“Morning, mum,” George said with a wave.

 

“Have you any idea how worried I’ve been?” the woman asked, obviously keeping leash on her anger. Said leash snapped when George said, “Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to—”

 

And so the shouting began. Jessica tuned it out as the woman threw her hands in every direction, yelling about the possible consequences they could have faced or what horrible fates could have befallen them.

 

“Augusta will never forgive me for letting you stay over!” the twins’ mother shouted at one point.

 

“I don’t think she will care,” Jessica muttered.

 

That landed her another fifteen minutes of shouting, but Jessica couldn’t help it; it was true. Gran was always yelling at her, even when she wasn’t at fault, and after every full moon it was like she was reminded how  _ different  _ Jessica was. It was easy to see why she would rather spend summer vacation in the cramped Weasley house than with Gran, Neville, and her  _ ‘brilliant’ _ sisters.

 

After remembering Harry existed, Mrs. Weasley led them back to the house and started to make breakfast. Sausage, thank Merlin, was a part of the meal, and she gobbled it up.

 

Finally, when Mrs. Weasley stopped muttering about how lucky they were no one saw them, Harry piped up.

 

“So…how are your sisters?”

 

Jessica shrugged. “Fine.”

 

Harry paused as if unsure what such a short response meant.

 

George gave an obnoxious yawn. “I’m so  _ tired.  _ I think I’ll just go right up to bed—”

 

“You will not!” Mrs. Weasley hissed, turning on them like a snake. “It was your own fault you stayed up all night! You’re going to de-gnome the garden for me.” Jessica groaned. De-gnoming was the worst chore in wizarding children history. She had avoided it for the most part. At Gran’s house just three years ago, Amanda had stationed a few select snakes in the garden, and only the stupidest gnomes ever entered the yard.

 

But she went after much complaint, which was supplemented by George and Fred’s moaning about boredom. About an hour into the punishment, Jessica stood up, stretched, and declared, “Okay, we’re done. Now I say we go to the village.”

 

“That’s a grand idea, Jessica,” Fred agreed, springing up to his feet. George was right beside him.

 

To Harry’s curious look, Ron explained, “Those three like to sneak on off to the village and steal things from the muggles.”

 

“Not money, of course, and not all the time,” Fred explained.

 

“There’s a lot of interesting trinkets people forget in their pockets. Things  _ we  _ can use,” George answered. Ron rolled his eyes.

 

“Well if you disapprove,  _ mum,  _ you can just stay here with the famous person,” Jessica said.

 

“Well if  _ you _ fancy getting yelled at again…” Ron muttered, picking up another gnome.

 

“We only get yelled at if we’re caught, which,” she said with a look to Harry, “rarely happens.”

 

Ron rolled his eyes. “Yet even Lovegood caught you stealing his necklace.” Jessica glared at him so hard she thought she would turn into a werewolf right then and there.

 

“Aw, ickle Ron afraid of getting into trouble?” Fred said in the most annoying voice he could muster. Jessica enjoyed every second of it.

 

“No! I just don’t think Harry would want to go to a boring muggle village, that’s all,” Ron snapped back, growing red.

 

Fred and George looked to Harry. “Want to come with us?”

 

Jessica could see the curiosity burning in his eyes, so, as an extra push, she said, “There’s a wizard’s pawn shop we could visit. Mr. Fawcett always has loads of gadgets to look at and sweets, too, if you know how to ask.”

 

“We should tell your mum first,” Harry said finally with a nod.

 

So after enduring a ‘don’t do anything stupid’ lecture from Molly (who had inspected the garden for fifteen minutes after they asked to go to the village), they were off. Jessica, Fred, and George took turns picking up rocks and throwing them at far away fence posts. Only Fred managed to hit one.

 

It took about thirty minutes to travel to the village, and much to their disappointment, not many muggles were out and about near the shops. Just a few people buying last minute items. No window shoppers.

 

“Is everyone on holiday?” George asked to no one in particular.

 

“How rude of them! Who are we supposed to pickpocket now?” Fred demanded theatrically.

 

“Come on, Harry, let’s go see if Fawcett has his store open,” Ron said, moving down the street.

 

“Well, it beats stumbling about out here,” Fred announced.

 

“I wonder if he’s got any more of those shrinking bottle caps?” George asked. The twins looked at her, silently asking if she was coming.

 

“You go on to Fawcett’s and try to find some of those pieces we’ve been looking for,” she told them. “I’m gonna see if there are any potential pickpocket victims around the block.” Fred and George shrugged.

 

“See you later Jessica!” they said, and joined with Harry and Ron.

 

Jessica sighed a breath of relief. She didn’t really want to visit old Fawcett right away. She needed just a galleon more to buy a broom, and she, unlike Fred and George, couldn’t care less about what she stole, as long as it was valuable.

 

So the black-haired eleven-year-old surveyed street for anyone who could have anything with value. There was a couple, but they looked like newlyweds. The only thing valuable they could have was a pair of wedding rings, which they wouldn’t let out of their sights. There was an older man in nice enough clothing, but he peered around the corners like he was either hiding from someone or doing the same thing she was. Best not to go after someone on alert.

 

The werewolf stopped when she saw a little boy no older than nine fumbling with muggle money, his face scrunched into deep thought as he counted. Finally, he gave up, shoving it into his back pocket as he looked through the window of the baker’s shop. Jessica straightened herself.

 

Perfect target.

 

Jessica walked with a meandering stride, looking to be casually crossing the street as she went toward the boy. He was so concentrated on the little cake that was on the other side of the window, he paid no attention to the advancing pickpocket. Slowly, carefully, Jessica crept forward, visualizing her theft as many times as she could.

 

Just a foot away, the boy straightened up like he had been petrified, then turned on his heel and stared at Jessica with wide eyes. She expected him to go running for his mother, shouting something that would have her running back to the Weasleys in an attempt not to be caught.

But he didn’t.

 

Instead, a grin wider than Delilah’s at christmas spread across his face. The kid jumped into her private bubble, just two inches from her skin, and started wildly moving around as he said, “Hello! I’m Timothy Fawcett! You can just call me Tim, though. Who are you? You smell weird. Are you from the village? From somewhere else? I haven’t been here in a while, see, and I want a cake, but I’m awful at counting. Sissy thinks I need to get better, but I know she’s no better than me!”

 

Jessica took three steps back. He took four steps forward.

 

“Where are you going? Grandpa said I shouldn’t travel far, but I’ve been forced to stay inside for  _ so long—” _

 

Jessica dashed around him and power-walked to the Fawcett shop. It only occurred to her when she swung the slick, heavy door open that the kid had said his last name was Fawcett.

 

“Jessica?” asked Fred. George peered up from the bottle cap he was looking at.

 

“Did you find—?”

 

“Grandpa! Look, I found a someone to look at your stuff!” announced the kid as he ran and pounced on Mr Fawcett. The old, white haired man chuckled, taking the harsh hug of the kid as if it were an everyday thing. Perhaps it was.

 

“Good morning, Miss Coppin,” Fawcett told her with a tip of his old, patchy hat. His clothes were in a similar state, though it did not degrade him. His large stature, calloused hands, and battle scarred bare arms portrayed the strength behind his aging eyes.

 

“Timothy!” came the gasp of a girl who had just come through the shop door. “Where have you been? I was so worried! I thought you had gone off into the hills again—”

 

She had gone over and fussed over the boy, but the kid shrugged her off.

 

“I just wanted a piece of cake!” he whined. His eyes met Jessica’s, and before her glare could scare him off, he leaped forward and pointed at her. “Look! Look! Look who I found!”

 

“Jessica, right?” the girl asked. She was much taller than Jessica’s sisters, despite being the same age, and she was very thin, long, and petite. Like she had been physically stretched when she was younger.

 

Jessica nodded. Then she said, “Sarah?” because even though she doubted her memory would fail her, she figured it was polite enough to get her behind the curtain to the really valuable items.

Sarah nodded. “Sorry about Timothy. He’s a little hyper after…well…” The girl gave a pleading glance to her grandfather.

 

Mr. Fawcett cleared her throat. “Why don’t take Timothy to the carriage and get him home then, Sarah? Your grandmother will be worried if you stay too long.”

 

“What about you, Grandpa?”

 

“Oh, a good walk now and then won’t hurt me,” Mr. Fawcett said. “Now run along. Don’t forget to stop at the bakery before you leave, though. I made sure to give him enough money to buy something good.” Looking like Christmas had come early, the boy sprang into the air and sprinted out the door, Sarah rushing hopelessly after him.

 

“I still don’t know why you use a carriage,” George said. “It’d be so much easier to make a Floo fireplace!” Mr. Fawcett laughed.

 

“What’s life without a little morning adventure? Can’t get that teleporting to the place every day, now can’t I?” said the old man with a smile befitting a grandfather. “Now! As I understand it, you lot are looking for some  _ wizarding  _ trinkets, eh?”

 

Everyone’s face lit up.

 

“Come on, then, to the back, like always,” the man said, trudging on his bad knees to the back. He touched a panel with his wand, then opened what seemed like an invisible door. One by all, they all went in, moving from the normal muggle pawn shop to an avalanche of lost magical things _. _

 

It didn’t matter how many times one came to the shop, there was always something new to look at. Books ranging from tiny ice cube-sized ones to circular ones with a diameter as long as a wand were all stacked on top of each other in the back corner, from the ground to the ceiling. There were odd cauldrons lined up beneath a tall table, and gliding paper airplanes that circled the dim light centering the ceiling.

 

“Let’s see…I got an old deck of Exploding Snap cards…couple of crystal balls…a new Cleansweep, though I bet you boys have the newer models already…” The old man was shuffling through an unorganized stack of papers. Looked like boring legal stuff.

 

“What about those bottle caps? The ones that shrink and fold up?” Fred asked eagerly.

 

“Bottlecaps? Isn’t that what you bought last month? No…No I don’t think I have any more of those…Got a Sneakoscope, though. Just a pocket one, of course, but still useful.”

 

Harry, who had been following the gliding paper airplanes with his gaze, looked at the man and tilted his head.

 

“Sneakoscope? What’s that?” he asked.

 

“A nifty little tool to help detect the untrustworthy,” Mr. Fawcett explained, picking up the little glass top. “It isn’t as good as the big expensive ones, but it’ll keep a lookout for some pesky pranksters.” He eyed the troublemaking trio when he said this. They all grinned innocently.

 

“Would you like it?” Mr. Fawcett asked as Harry gazed at it longingly.

 

“Oh, I don’t have any muggle money, sir, or wizarding money,” Harry told him, holding his hands up in refusal.

 

“It’s alright, anything for the vanquisher of You-Know-Who,” the old man told Harry, setting the sneakoscope in his hand. The was a sincere look in his eye, and although Jessica had never asked, she knew there was a reason Sarah and Timothy lived with their grandparents.

 

“Thank you, sir!” Harry said excitedly, staring at every inch of the cheap little thing. Jessica shrugged.  _ ‘Whatever makes him happy, I guess,’ _ she thought.

 

They spent about an hour browsing through Mr. Fawcett’s newer items. Nothing really caught their eye, though they did find another bottlecap. They left with a pocket full of sweets after saying a lengthy goodbye.

 

Jessica took a deep breath of clear air once they were outside She coughed when the strong scent of Timothy Fawcett barged into her nose. She rubbed it, but the smell wouldn’t leave.

 

“Stupid kid,” she muttered.

 

“Who, Sarah’s brother?” George asked.

 

“He seemed like he really  _ liked _ you,” Fred teased. She shoved him in response, though her small stature did little against him. It still felt good.

 

“I guess he didn’t get the hint that Jessica hates little kids,” George sniggered.

 

‘ _ And the smell,’  _ she thought irritably, still trying to rub it away. It wasn’t working. All she could smell was Timothy and wolf.

 

Jessica mentally froze.

 

Wolf…but she hadn’t seen Delilah in days, and her own wolf scent was different. Did that mean…

 

“Have the Fawcetts always acted so strange?” she asked, careful to sound like she was just casually annoyed.

 

“No, I remember Timothy being a shy kid the few times Mum forced us to go over there, and Sarah didn’t even notice him. It must be because he got so terribly sick a few months ago.”

 

“Sick?” Jessica asked.

 

“Yeah, Mum was sending over a full meal for them every other day!” Fred exclaimed. 

 

“Apparently he was so sick no one could go into his room for several weeks. Quite strange.”

 

“Bet he just got bitten by a garden gnome with rabies or something,” Jessica said, waving it off. Internally, however, she knew exactly what had happened. There was only one reason a wizarding family would be containing their child like that, and only one reason Timothy smelled the way she did. And the theory made even more sense when she considered just how he had noticed her coming to pickpocket him.

 

Timothy Fawcett was a werewolf.

 

Other than Remus she had never met another werewolf before. Jessica felt a distant pity for the boy, though it only lasted a few seconds. After all, George had pulled the conversation to an upcoming Quidditch match, and considering Ron liked one team and the twins liked the other, it immediately put the thought of another werewolf out of her head. 


	2. When the Immature People In the Room Are the Grown Ups

 

Knockturn Alley was one of those places that was great only if you knew where to look. To any outsider, dark objects were the only thing in the windows, and that was true, but only because the store owners didn’t want any muggleborns or half-bloods to come wandering in. This was the place of the traditional purebloods like the Malfoys and Notts.

 

That was why Amanda Coppin walked with a sure foot and high head as she wound her way through the streets to Borgin and Burkes. The regulars had to know you in order to treat you like anything other than an animal caught in a trap, and what better way to announce she belonged than to walk around like she owned the place?

 

“ _ Amanda?” _

 

She stopped, blinking as she saw Theo. The taller, thinner black-haired boy stood in the doorway of the potions shop. She recovered from her momentary surprise and went up to him.

 

“Didn’t you say you weren’t going to buy your school stuff until later?” Amanda asked. The pale boy, who actually had gained some color over the summer, swallowed.

 

“We aren’t here to buy my school supplies. Father was explaining to me one of his business ventures, then he told me to wait outside. I believe that can only mean one thing,” Theo responded, giving a wary glance to the door of the shop. Amanda listened carefully, catching a faint shouting match coming from inside that seemed a lot like someone was being threatened.

 

“I’m shocked he didn’t make you stay and watch, to be honest,” Amanda commented. Theo shrugged.

 

“Those two can get into duels from time to time. I imagine he didn’t want me to be hurt. I am his only heir, after all.”

 

“Well, good luck. I’ve got to go meet Draco at Borgin & Burkes,” Amanda explained.

 

“Are you two still fighting?” Theo asked, looking amused more than anything.

 

“We’re always fighting,” she told him with a smirk “Well, I gotta go. See you later, Theo.” Then she started off. It didn’t take her long to get there, she knew her way around Knockturn Alley like she did her own house. She had Lucius Malfoy to thank for that.

 

“Everyone thinks he’s so  _ smart,  _ wonderful  _ Potter,  _ with his scar and his  _ broomstick.” _

 

“You have told me this at least a dozen times already, Draco,” came Lucius Malfoy’s perfectly cold voice. He and his son were standing near the counter waiting for Borgin. She smirked and strode into the dim shop as Draco’s father continued, “And I would remind you that it is not...prudent to appear less than fond of Harry Potter, not when most of our kind regard him as the hero who made the Dark Lord disappear.”

 

“I’ve tried telling him as much,” said Amanda, pulling the attention of both Malfoys to her as she stood behind them. “He just doesn’t listen.”

 

“Amanda! How nice to see you again,” said Draco’s father, his eyes alight with the same glee that he always showed around her. It was a mix of pride and excitement that just barely peeked out of his normal composure.

 

“You too, Mr. Malfoy,” Amanda said, smiling. She gave a sharp stare to Draco. “Draco.”

“Amanda,” the blonde haired second year sneered.

 

“Be nice, Draco,” Mr. Malfoy hissed. Draco’s glare hardened, and her smirk widened. She caught movement behind a large cabinet further into the store, and narrowed her eyes. She could have sworn she saw Harry Potter.

 

“Ah, Borgin,” said Mr. Malfoy as the old trickster appeared behind the counter in front of them.

“What a pleasure, Lucius!” exclaimed the shopkeeper.

 

“Mind if I look around, Mr. Malfoy? I promise I won’t disturb anything,” Amanda said as politely as possible.

 

“Not at all, Amanda,” Mr. Malfoy answered. Draco’s jaw dropped as she turned toward the desk.

“But you told  _ me—” _

 

“Quiet, Draco, I have business to attend to,” Mr. Malfoy hissed (Amanda noticed he’d been doing that quite a lot today), cutting his son off.

 

The voices became quieter as she reached the desk. Casually, as if genuinely curious, Amanda poked her head around it.

 

And there, crouched like his life depended on it, was Harry Potter.

 

She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Spying on us, are you?”

 

“I got lost!” Harry defended himself, his green eyes flashing. Amanda glanced behind him to the fire place. The rug was disturbed and there was a lot of dust. She smirked.

 

“Couldn’t figure out how to floo, could you?” she asked. Harry’s eyes narrowed, his head lowering with a bit of shame. Amanda glanced at the Malfoy’s, a plan forming in her head as easily as flowing water.

 

“Look,” she said, gazing at Harry. “I can help you get out of here, but—”

 

“I don’t need your help,” he snapped, the fire in his eyes alight once more.

 

“Do you remember that truce? The one where we decided to be  _ friends?”  _ Amanda said sharply.

 

“Do  _ you  _ remember? Fred said you let Draco send Dobby to threaten me! I could have been expelled!” Amanda narrowed her eyes.

 

“Draco did what?” she asked.

 

“Don’t pretend you don’t know! You know everything he does,” Harry growled.

 

“I haven’t seen that idiot since leaving the Hogwarts Express, Potter, so no, I  _ don’t  _ know everything he does,” Amanda hissed.

 

“And I suppose I’m just supposed to believe that?” Harry hissed back.

 

Amanda wanted to punch him. She tensed, ready to strike with everything she had.

 

“Draco refused to listen to me about staying off you, so I have been ignoring him and his letters for weeks,” Amanda said lowly. Warningly. “I came today to see if he’s learned his lesson. I would have had no idea he sent Dobby, which he didn’t.”

 

“What do you mean? Who else could it have been?” Harry asked.

 

“House elves can only be ordered to leave the house by the head of the household itself,” Amanda said, “Otherwise house elves would be stealing candy from shops all over the place. Or, in Jessica’s case, nicking money off muggle window shoppers.”

 

“So…it was Draco’s father?” Harry asked.

 

“Amanda? Are you coming with us to get your school books?” Mr. Malfoy called.

 

Amanda sighed. Then said to Harry, “While I’m talking to him, go to your right and out that back door as quietly as possible. I’ll find you and help you get to Diagon Alley.”

 

Then the Slytherin Heir strolled out from behind the tall dresser and shook her head.

 

“Sorry, Mr. Malfoy, Gran wants me to take Jessica to get her wand,” Amanda told him. “I have to meet them at Diagon Alley in a few minutes.” Mr. Malfoy’s expression fell.

 

“I assumed you would be joining Draco and I,” he said.

 

“I just stopped by to get an apology, but it seems Draco doesn’t want to give one,” she said. Draco’s eyes widened. Mr. Malfoy looked like he was ready to growl at his son.

 

Turning and smirking, Amanda said, “See you later, Draco.”

 

Then she strode out the door, her walk turning into a skip as she heard the beginnings of what seemed like would be a very long lecture. She continued skipping around the building to where Harry was.

 

Or at least, where Harry was  _ supposed  _ to be.

 

Amanda made a sound in between a sigh and a growl before she took a sniff in and opened her hearing. He hadn’t gone far, so she rushed after him, praying that there wasn’t a true Death Eater on the prowl that day.

 

“Not lost, are you, boy?” croaked an old lady. An elder Parkinson. She had Harry cornered between a crowd and a building. Not good, not good—

 

“Nathan,  _ there  _ you are!” Amanda exclaimed, breaking everyone’s attention. She rushed up, and as soon as the crowd saw her, they took a nervous step back.

 

Harry, who looked tremendously confused, said, “Amanda—?”

 

“I told you, we have to get to Diagon Alley before Gran realizes we’re missing,” Amanda hissed, loud enough for everyone to hear. She also gave Harry a pointed look.

 

“Why, if it isn’t the Slytherin Heir,” crooned the elder Parkinson. Her smile looked worse than a werewolf’s.

 

“The Slytherin Heir wouldn’t be bringing an impure  _ muggleborn  _ here,” hissed someone Amanda couldn’t pin.

 

“ _ You dare test the Slytherin Heir?”  _ Amanda hissed in parseltongue. Her glass snake, Salazar, tightened around her wrist and translated it swiftly. Switching to English, she went on, “He’s a pureblood, through and through. But he is only of common magical descent, if you must know. From America, visiting my guardian. He wanted the Knockturn Alley experience, so I was giving it to him. But now,” she said, glaring at the witches and wizards in her way. “we have to leave.”

 

Thank Merlin, they all parted. She took Harry’s wrist, and though he struggled a bit, she drug him through area and down the street, making sure to keep her proud expression.

 

“Amanda—”

 

“Stay quiet until we get out of here,” she ordered under her breath.

 

“But why—”

 

“Shh!”

 

They passed over into Diagon Alley five minutes later at a brisk walk. She let Harry go and gave a sigh of relief.

 

“That was close,” she breathed.

 

“Why?” Harry asked. “Were they going to hurt me? Did you know them?”

 

“The old witch was Pansy’s grandmother. She’s very sneaky woman. They wouldn’t have hurt you, but they would have definitely tried to use you somehow. You are Harry Potter, after all.”

Harry shook his head, as if stopping his imagination from going too far. Amanda was glad for that.

 

“It would have been even better if you had just waited like I asked,” she said, an edge to her voice.

 

Harry shrugged. “I didn’t know if you were actually going to do as you said.”

 

“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m on your side?” Amanda asked. He gave her a look that told her he was holding something back. “Harry, just because I’m a Slytherin does not mean I’m going to suddenly—”

 

“ _ Harry!” _

 

Harry was engulfed in a Gryffindor hug as Hermione and Ron tackled him. Amanda’s lips curled at the end as she saw him struggling and laughing at the same time. When they parted, Hermione of course, had a million questions.

 

“Where were you? Ron told me you had said the wrong words for the floo—what happened to your glasses?”

 

“He broke them,” Amanda cut in. She gained all of the Gryffindors’ attention.

 

“Amanda? Isn’t your family supposed to meet us later?” Hermione asked.

 

“Yeah, what have you been doing? Snooping?” Ron sneered. Amanda glared at him.

 

“Stop, Ron, she was saving me,” Harry told his friends. Ron glared at her. Amanda smirked at Ron.

 

“Your welcome,” she said.

 

“Saving you?” Hermione gasped. Her eyes went to Harry, demanding an explanation.

 

“I was in some store in Knockturn Alley,” Harry explained. “The Malfoys were there, selling some stuff.” That piqued Ron’s interest.

 

“What kinds? Dad has been trying to catch him for weeks—”

 

“Really?” Amanda asked, getting their attention once more.

 

“Harry!” Mr. Weasley shouted, jogging up to them. “Harry, we’d hoped you’d only gone one grate too far. Molly’s frantic—she’s coming now—”

 

Indeed she was, with the rest of the Weasleys following her. Amanda smiled when she saw Jessica trailing behind with Fred and George, a grin on her face. With the colorful items in their arms, Amanda knew they’d invaded the joke shop already.

 

“Where’d you go, Harry?” George asked curiously.

 

“Knockturn Alley,” Harry answered again.

 

“Excellent!” chorused Fred and George as Jessica said, “Wicked.”

 

“We’ve never been allowed to go in,” Ron explained to Harry.

 

“For good reason!” Molly shouted, causing her children to shrink under her pressured gaze.

“But Amanda is allowed in!” Ron whined.

 

“That’s because everyone  _ knows  _ me. All you lot are too obvious. No one in Knockturn Alley would even sell to you,” she told them.

 

Ron opened his mouth to probably degrade the pureblood wizards, but suddenly Gran came striding over.

 

“Mrs. Weasley, you ought to keep me more informed!” the older woman exclaimed. “Weren’t we to meet at Flourish & Blotts?” Audrey and Delilah stood with her on one side with Neville on the other, averting his eyes with his head low. Her sisters smiled at her. She smiled back.

 

“Well, er, Augusta, there’s been a slight change of plans,” Mr. Weasley spoke. Mrs. Weasley stepped forward to take charge.

 

“Since we’re all here already, let’s all go to Gringotts and split up from there. Percy says he needs a new wand, Fred and George need their robes fixed—”

 

“Elena told me she was going to meet us outside Ollivander’s in an hour,” Amanda chipped in.

“Ah, yes, Jessica’s wand,” Gran spoke.

 

“How does meeting at Flourish & Blotts sound?” Mrs. Weasley asked. “Everyone needs new books, and if we hurry I suspect we may even be there in time to see Gilderoy Lockhart! Perhaps we can get a few of your new school books signed.”

 

“Is that the glittery writer who’s forcing me to pay those outrageous prices for those outlandish books?” Gran said sharply. “Nearly couldn’t believe my ears when Audrey told me how much they would be. Ridiculous!” The children all giggled at the elder lady’s grumbling. All aside from Hermione, who looked a little hurt.

 

Eventually, they agreed with Mrs. Weasley’s plan. By the time Amanda went up the marble steps to Gringotts, she had nearly finished explaining in detail what she had seen and done in Knockturn Alley. When they walked in side, Amanda smirked and Delilah smiled.

 

“Hey, Audrey, a creature that’s—”

 

“Don’t even say it!” Audrey hissed, mildly annoyed as she interrupted Delilah. “You say it every time, and I’m not even that much shorter than you!” Delilah reacted like a kicked puppy. Her sister may have given up easily, but not Amanda. When Audrey turned away, Amanda stepped close and whispered in her ear, “Look, we found a creature that’s shorter than you!” Audrey reached back and grabbed for her, but Amanda had already skipped away, Gran’s protests bouncing off her like a quaffle. Delilah’s laughs made it all worth it.

 

Amanda realized something as she always did when she followed Gran through the bank. Gringotts was  _ boring.  _ It was just stone, stone, a vault or two, and more stone. Gran tried explaining the importance of banking once, but she’d hardly listened. Narcissa Malfoy had already beaten Gran to that lecture, not that Amanda retained much of that conversation either.

 

“We get to go on the ride!” Delilah shouted with delight as they came across the carts that drove on the tiny tracks.

 

“It isn’t a ride,” Audrey pointed out.

 

“It’s as good as!” Amanda exclaimed.

 

The trip was as fun as it always was, though no one enjoyed it as much as Delilah did. She had her hands in the air with a wide grin. She even screamed when the cart swooped down at top speed.

 

“Er, Gran? I think we’re missing something,” Amanda spoke as the elder lady gathered the Sickles of the vault into her purse.

 

“What?” she snapped.

 

“Jessica!” Audrey gasped. She searched around the general vicinity.

 

“Must have snuck back into the Weasley herd,” Amanda laughed.

 

“When I find that girl…” Gran grumbled as they closed the vault and shuffled back to the cart. 

 

Once upon a time, Amanda thought Gran didn’t finish that sentence because she just didn’t remember what she was going to say. The Slytherin soon discovered that Gran had actually run out of punishments.

 

Luckily for them, they emerged from the boring bank just as the Weasleys did.

 

“Jessica Louise Coppin!” shouted the elder lady.

 

“So  _ that’s  _ your middle name!” Ron piped up from somewhere within the sea of ginger hair.

 

“ _ Gran _ ,” Jessica groaned. She stomped forward, her arms crossed as she held a scowl on her face.

 

“Next time don’t try to sneak off, or you won’t have any wand at all for your first year of Hogwarts,” Gran hissed. Then marched toward Ollivanders.

 

“I would still pass,” Jessica grumbled. For once, Amanda agreed with her little sister. Whatever she lacked in morals she made up for in sheer intelligence. Whether it be because she read every book she could get her hands on just to say she could or all the time she spent with Fred and George, Amanda didn’t know, but she was sure Jessica was going to end up at the top of her year.

 

And so the group made it to the quaint little shop Amanda herself had bought from just a year ago. Elena was nowhere to be found, as she had promised.

 

“I wonder why she was so adamant that she not go into Ollivanders,” Audrey spoke.

 

“Well she didn’t get her wand from him,” Amanda responded with a shrug.

 

“Oh, it was just some request that your mother made,” Gran said. “You girls better go in—”

 

“What?” Amanda asked. But Gran just went on.

 

“—watch your sister while Neville and I go gather a few items for the owl.”

 

“Wait, what did our mother tell Elena? How?” Amanda demanded. The elder witch didn’t hear her, though. She was already striding away at a brisk walk, Neville looking back at them as if he would much rather see a wand choosing than have to go with his grandmother.

 

“Well that was strange,” Delilah commented after a few seconds of silence. Amanda crossed her arms. She knew probably the most about her mother out of all of her sisters, so it bugged her to no end that she didn’t have any clue what Gran was talking about. 

 

“Who cares?” Jessica said, her hand already on the door of Ollivander’s.

 

“Can’t wait to get your wand?” Amanda asked sharply, still a bit irritated as Jessica turned the knob. Jessica’s grin was frightening.

 

“I’m ready to destroy stuff,” she said, then strode right in. Amanda gave a wary look to Audrey, who had paled.

 

“There is something wrong with that child,” the Ravenclaw said.

 

“Definitely,” Amanda agreed.

 

The triplets went after their little sister. After they closed the door, a familiar old face greeted them.

 

“Ah, the last of the Coppins. In for your first wand then?” Ollivander asked rhetorically. Jessica only shrugged as Amanda, Audrey, and Delilah joined her.

 

“And there are the rest of them! The triplets without a thing in common with their wands, aside from the length of course. All eleven inches—quite a lucky number. Lets see…” the old man looked to Amanda. “Ah yes, phoenix feather, hazel wood. Unyielding. One of the most loyal yet sensitive wands ever made. Has it lost its temper yet?”

 

“Once,” Amanda answered, smirking as she recalled her fight with Draco on the way home from Hogwarts. He had grabbed it in a hostage attempt, and the wand had exploded, showering the compartment with burning sparks. Draco was fine, but he had wailed as if he’d lost an arm.

 

“I remember your wand quite well, Delilah Coppin. I recall that it glowed just as you entered my shop. It was the quickest I have seen a wand choose a witch or wizard in a very long time. As it goes with the rare vinewood wands, though undoubtedly the pure unicorn hair aided the wands’ choosing.” Delilah beamed, holding her dark, beautiful wand into place. She had not shut up about it for a week after she had gotten it, going on and on about how rare it was.

 

When Ollivander turned to Audrey, his smile faltered. Audrey ducked her head. Unlike Amanda and Delilah, her wand was not in her hand.

 

“Yes, that’s right. You received a wand I did not craft. A wand made from the dark Thestral hair, yet protected with the handsome beechwood. A wand made for one who will make long lasting, deeply impactful decisions.” Audrey looked very ready for him to look away, but the old wand maker did not let go of her gaze for several moments.

 

“But we here for Miss Jessica Coppin!” Ollivander went on, having somehow measured Jessica without anyone noticing during the course of the conversation. He went to the back of his store and plucked a little wand box. He opened it, taking the short dark wand out tenderly.

 

“Phoenix Feather, Dogwood, ten inches,” said Ollivander, handing Jessica the wand. The werewolf inspected it for only a second before giving it a sharp swish. The wood trim on Ollivander’s counter cracked into little pieces, falling like flakes of snow. Jessica looked disappointed.

 

“Well then,” Ollivander said, taking out his own light colored wand. He tapped the counter, fixing the wood in a second. “Perhaps something stronger?”

 

Ollivander left and brought out another wand. He said it was Phoenix feather with red oak, twelve inches long. It was a beautiful wand, coated in a pretty scarlet brown that would have been perfect for the soon-to-be Gryffindor.

 

Jessica took it and flicked it. The shelves just left of her hissed into long flames. Jessica watched with gleaming eyes. Amanda recalled camping once: Delilah had said she liked watching the dancing fire. Jessica declared she just like watching things burn and shrivel into ash.

 

Ollivander seemed to be watching this too. He put out the fire with a simple water spell and disappeared behind the shelves again. He turned with another wand box, this one holding a particularly bright wand within.

 

“Dragon heartstring, Pine, twelve and a half inches,” Ollivander explained. He handed Jessica the wand. This time, however, the eleven-year-old did not swish it or flick it. She just…twirled it. The wand expelled golden sparks, and those sparks swirled with the wand, created a circle. It faded once it had caught its tail.

 

“This one,” she announced with a grin.

 

“Yes,” said Ollivander. “A wand not afraid of something a little new. Nor, dare I say, afraid of a little trouble making.”

 

“Big surprise,” Amanda muttered to Audrey, who stifled a laugh with her hand.

 

Once they were out of the shop, though, Audrey was not laughing.

 

“Did he  _ have  _ to remind me my wand is weird?” Audrey asked. She starting imitating him horribly, “‘Deeply impactful decisions.’ What in Merlin’s name is that supposed to mean?”

 

“Maybe you’ll be Minister of Magic someday,” Amanda said with a wave of her hand. “At least my wand is useful and loyal.”

 

“My wand is rare!” Delilah exclaimed, holding it tight with a wide grin on her face.

 

“Good for you,” Audrey muttered, frowning enviously.

 

“What did I miss?”

 

Amanda laughed hysterically as Audrey jumped four feet into the air and turned, her wide gaze locking onto their older sister, Elena. Not much had changed over the summer. Her golden brown hair was still long and fluffy, and she stood evenly—not slouched like Audrey or Queen-like in Amanda’s case. Just perfectly set like the neutral oddity she was.

 

“You scared me!” Audrey shouted accusingly.

 

“That isn’t hard to do,” Amanda spoke. She received a playful glare from her sister.

 

“I suppose it didn’t take long for your wand to choose you,” Elena said, addressing Jessica. The eleven-year-old stuck her wand out proudly. Most would think she was proud of her wand. Those that actually knew her understood her happiness was merely because she could get into twice the trouble with it.

 

“What is it?” Elena asked curiously, as she had with all of their wands.

 

“Dragon heartstring with pine,” Jessica said. She made it sound like that didn’t matter much as she continued inspecting her wand as gleefully as a goblin would a shiny piece of gold.

 

“That is an interesting combination,” Elena mused. “Did you know that wands with pine usually choose witches and wizards that live very long lives?” This only made Jessica’s grin grow wider.

 

“I’m going to live forever!” she declared.

 

“You would,” Amanda said with a roll of her eyes.

 

“Just to spite us,” Audrey agreed.

 

“How do you know so much?” Delilah asked, looking at Elena as if she were a puzzle.

 

“About wands?” Elena asked.

 

“Books,” Audrey and Amanda said at the exact same time just as Delilah nodded.

 

“I didn’t learn  _ just  _ from books,” Elena defended herself. “Professor Flitwick told me some things, and after I got my wand from Mr. Gregorovitch, he sent me a few letters explaining the basics.”

 

“Because you have a  _ special _ wand,” Audrey muttered, continuing her pouting from before.

 

“You had the Orbor—” Amanda began.

 

“The Our-o-bor-os scales,” Delilah corrected very slowly, careful to perfect each syllable. Amanda glared at her, but like always, her wolf sister did not notice one bit.

 

“Looks like Gran is back,” Audrey commented half-heartedly, breaking up the conversation as Amanda saw their guardian waddle toward them with what looked like…could it be?

 

“An owl!” Jessica shouted.

 

“Hey, look, Gran is back!” Delilah announced. Ignoring their Hufflepuff sister’s late remark, they all crowded the elder Longbottom, her grandson, and the owl still in its cage.

 

“You got her an owl?” Amanda asked, excited as she watched the agile silvery owl fluff its feathers, startled.

 

“Happy birthday,” Gran told Jessica, answering Amanda’s inevitable ‘why did she get one and not any of us?’ question in the process.

 

“That is a very nice owl,” Elena spoke as she peered over the rest of them.

 

“Had to make sure I got a competent one this time,” Gran grumbled. Amanda (along with Elena and Delilah and Neville, she soon noticed) glanced at Audrey. The Ravenclaw shrugged and shook her head. Audrey’s owl was the most worthless owl in history. Even more worthless than Errol. It was hardly ever around, and when it was, not all the letters ended up in the right place, and the owl itself was, using the nicest words possible, a stubborn prat.

 

“Come on, let’s get to Florish & Blotts so I can show Fred and George!” Jessica exclaimed.

 

And off they went. It wasn’t far from the wand shop, and it wasn’t hard to spot either. There was a crowd in front of it, after all. A crowd of swooning witches that Amanda definitely did not want to wade through to get to her books.

 

“You have got to be joking,” Amanda groaned. “They’re all here for Lockhart?”

 

“Well, he did do some amazing things, Amanda, even if he does over exaggerate a bit,” Audrey pointed out.

 

“A bit? Have you read any of his books?” Amanda asked.

 

“Maybe all the witches want to see him because he dresses like a witch,” Jessica chipped in. Elena stifled a laugh as Delilah giggled and Audrey shook her head with a smile. Amanda couldn’t stop laughing at all.

 

“Girls, girls! Not so loud,” Gran scolded. They quieted down, but they gave each other knowing looks as they entered the swarm of middle-aged witches.

 

“I can’t smell Harry,” Delilah said to Gran and Elena after they had found a less dense area of the bookstore.

 

“I can’t hear him or the Weasleys,” Audrey announced. “And they’re hard to miss.”

 

“Alright then, just get your books,” Gran told them.

 

“Um…” Delilah began. “Where would the Herbology book be?”

 

“I’ll help,” Elena said automatically, and led Amanda and her triplet sisters to another isle as Gran helped Jessica and Neville (seeing as he didn’t go with the Coppins) with their books.

 

“Can’t we just share?” Amanda asked as Audrey passed the huge book of standard spells that she knew was going to be difficult to carry up and down Diagon Alley.

 

“It’s all the same book anyway. We’d just have to switch during break,” Audrey agreed.

 

“Should have thought have thought of that before getting sorted into three different houses,” Elena joked as she grabbed the  _ Standard Book of Spells _ she needed for her fifth year.

 

Amanda wondered if any of them could have manipulated the hat to put them all in the same house. She supposed it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, but when she imagined herself in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, a disgusted look crept over her face. She would hate having to stress about grades like Audrey and Hufflepuffs didn’t seem to understand personal space. When she imagined both of her sisters in Slytherin, she nearly laughed out loud. Delilah was as observant as a brick wall and Audrey was likely to get eaten alive.

 

She supposed it was best they were sorted into different houses.

 

“So when Jessica is in Gryffindor, does that mean we’re the first family to have a member in all four houses?” Amanda asked, walking over to the Potions’ books.

 

“It’s definitely rare,” Elena answered. “Though I supposed you can never be certain Jessica is going to Gryffindor.”

 

“If she isn’t a Gryffindor, I’m not a Slytherin,” Amanda muttered to Audrey. The Ravenclaw gave a short laugh, stopping herself short to keep quiet, though she continued smiling about it afterword.

 

“Hey, look, there’s Harry!” Amanda shouted, pointing over the crowd to the mess of black hair among the Weasley redheads.

 

“It  _ can’t  _ be Harry Potter?” spoke Gilderoy Lockhart. Then suddenly Harry was grabbed and shoved to the front of the store, where the crowd watched Lockhart hold the poor Gryffindor tight as he shined a blindingly bright, award winning smile for a photographer just in front of him.

 

“And there he goes,” Audrey said flatly. “Is it too late to call ‘finders keepers?’”

 

“Harry certainly looks like he would rather be Amanda’s than Lockhart’s at the moment,” Elena chuckled.

 

“Can you believe how vain he is?” Amanda asked, pointing at the very well-dressed man. Audrey raised an eyebrow.

 

“And you aren’t, miss ‘I’ve got to be in the bathroom for thirty minutes just to get ready for bed?’” the horse girl pointed out.

 

“I’m a  _ girl, _ and a Slytherin that can speak parseltongue. it’s  _ expected  _ of me to look nice,” Amanda hissed. “That is a fully grown man with makeup on.”

 

“He probably had his face magically shifted just perfectly so he never has to go through the trouble of putting on makeup,” Audrey said mischievously.

 

“That isn’t  _ actually  _ possible,” spoke Elena, but just then Gilderoy made a very dramatic gesture to get everyone’s attention, not that he needed too.

 

“Ladies and gentleman,” Lockhart announced loudly with a voice that dripped with deep rehearsal and days of practice, “What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I’ve been sitting on for some time! When young Harry stepped into Flourish & Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography—which I am happy to present him now, free of charge.” The crowd applauded as a book was shoved into Harry’s arms.

“He had no  _ idea _ ,” Lockhart went on, “that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book,  _ Magical Me _ . He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”

 

As the crowd roared with admiration, Amanda stared with a completely open jaw and eyes that were wider than when she’d seen Jessica beat Remus in a playfight just a few weeks ago.

 

“How in Merlin’s name—?” Amanda had a complete rant in her head about Dumbledore’s complete lack of ability to pick adequate teachers when she cut herself off, finding herself drawn to a certain bleach blond haired boy now strutting toward Harry, who was grumbling to Ron and Ginny.

 

Amanda rolled her eyes and slid through the crowd, following her idiot Housemate.

 

“Bet you loved that, didn’t you, Potter?” Draco sneered at Harry, sticking his nose up in just the right way. “Can’t even go into a  _ bookshop  _ without making the front page.”

 

“ _ Jealous  _ much?” Amanda said, a smirk worthy of her mother on her face as she crossed her arms, passed Draco, and stood next to Harry.

 

“What are you doing here?” Draco asked, confused more than anything.

 

“ _ Trying  _ to buy my books. But now I have to make sure you don’t cause any trouble,” she told him, staring at him so intently she saw him squirm.

 

“Why do you care so much?” Draco snapped.

 

“Well, since you obviously have memory loss, let me remind you: I made a promise to Harry to make sure you didn’t give him trouble. And I keep my promises. So, as I told you on Hogwarts Express last term,  _ stay away from Harry _ ,” Amanda hissed.

 

Her Slytherin housemate opened his mouth just as Amanda saw Mr. Malfoy stride up with a nasty look on his face.

 

“Hello, Mr. Malfoy,” Amanda said, half as a polite gesture to someone she owed a lot to, half to warn Draco just who was behind him.

 

“We meet again, Amanda!” Mr. Malfoy spoke happily. “Not starting any trouble, are we?”

“Not at all, just reminding Draco not to harass a powerful friend,” Amanda said pointedly, giving the most obedient smile. She caught Draco’s scorching glare as she did.

 

“Ah yes, Mr. Harry Potter,” Lucius Malfoy said smoothly, his gaze shifting to the Gryffindor who had his eyes narrowed tightly, as if ready to defend himself. Obviously he thought Lucius would act exactly like his son. “The Boy-Who-Lived. Who is a more powerful a friend than that?”

 

“Ron? What are you doing? Go outside, it’s too crowded to be in here,” came Mr. Weasley, barging in on their conversation.

 

“Well, well, well—Arthur Weasley.”

 

Mr. Weasley froze, turning stiffly to face Mr. Malfoy. Amanda could feel the tension in the air tighten like a rubber band just about to snap.

 

“Lucius,” said the head of the Weasley house, his voice colder than Amanda ever thought possible from a Weasley.

 

“Busy time at the Ministry I hear,” said Mr. Malfoy. “I hope they’re paying you overtime?” 

Amanda took a deep breath. A clear challenge to anyone seriously paying attention. Suddenly all those days spent listening to Mr. Malfoy and Mrs. Malfoy talk to other purebloods was paying off.

 

“Obviously not,” Mr. Malfoy answered his own question with disgust as he held up one of Ginny’s books. 

 

“Dear me, what’s the point of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don’t even pay you well for it?”

 

Mr. Weasley grew red in the face, and he was tensing more than Amanda was. The rubber band was tightening.

 

“You and I both have different ideas of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy,” Mr. Weasley said quietly. Sharply. She glanced at Harry and Ron, both with their fists clenched. The rubber band was about to snap; she needed to do something before this escalated to that point.

 

“Mr. Malfoy, Gran said I could stay over at the manor until term starts, if that is alright? She said she needed to talk to you about something first, though. She’s right outside,” Amanda lied quickly, inching toward the door. Her words were precisely chosen, but when Lucious looked at her she knew he had seen through her play.

 

“How can you stand to be around these people, Amanda?” Mr. Malfoy asked, his eyes shifting to who Amanda assumed were Hermione’s parents. “The company this family keeps, as if it could sink any lower—”

 

Amanda saw Mr. Weasley lunge, and she quickly darted out of the way, pulling Harry with her. Mr. Weasley shoved Mr. Malfoy into a bookshelf, sending the books tumbling. The crowd rushed to get out of the way, causing more books to tumble as the Weasley boys egged on their dad. Jessica bounced over and shouted with the twins, Draco was shouting something at Amanda, and of course Mrs. Weasley was trying to break the whole thing up with her wand out, though it was clear she didn’t know what to do.

 

“Break it up there, gents, break it up—”

 

Amanda’s head swung around to Hagrid as the giant shuffled in and tore the two immature, grown men apart. They scrambled to their feet, still glaring at each other, but at least they were no longer fighting.

 

“Here girl, have your book,” Mr. Malfoy said nastily, shoving Ginny her book. “It’s the best your father can buy you.” The head of the Malfoy house looked to Amanda and Draco with the intent of bringing them along.

 

“I’ll be out in just a moment, Mr. Malfoy,” Amanda promised, trying to keep the annoyed edge away from her voice. She wasn’t sure it worked, but Mr. Malfoy at least stormed out of the store with Draco at his side.

 

“Just wait until Mrs. Malfoy finds out,” Amanda said to herself.

 

“Well I guess that proves it then,” Ron said, the snarky tone of his voice making her tense as she turned around.

 

“Proves  _ what _ , Weasley?” Amanda demanded, letting her frustration show full force, sharp as a knife.

 

“You don’t actually have as much influence over Draco’s father as you say you do,” the redhead answered easily, standing up straighter to accept the challenge.

 

“Hmm, well, I think I deserve more credit than you do, I at least  _ tried _ ,” Amanda said.

 

“When?” Ron demanded.

 

“Do you remember me trying to get Mr. Malfoy out of the store by telling him Gran wanted to talk to him? Or are you just as thick as you look?” Amanda snapped. “I promised to keep Draco from pouncing on you every chance he gets. I did not say  _ anything  _ about keeping his father and your father from going at it. Now if you  _ excuse  _ me, I have to now go explain to one of the most powerful men in the Ministry why I just lied to his face about going over to his manor. You’re welcome.” With that she turned on her heel and went after Mr. Malfoy, praying neither he nor Gran would be too terribly angry with her. She was starting to think her deal with Harry Potter was just not worth it. 

 

_ ‘Cool down,’ _ Amanda told herself.  _ ‘Soon we’ll all be at Hogwarts and I won’t have adults getting in the way of everything.’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How to avoid the wand scene in book one: Mention it in book two =3


	3. CRASH! BAM! SLYTHERIN!

 

Jessica was not pleased knowing summer was just about over. Everyone was rushing around, trying to have as much fun as possible before going back to Hogwarts, and she was left trying to keep up. After all, Hogwarts seemed like it would be just as much fun since she didn’t have to spend the whole year cooped up in Gran’s house pretending not to be a werewolf.

 

The afternoon before they were to board the Hogwarts Express, this frantic desire to have fun became very evident. The twins could not focus on a single project, going between three or four under the context of “we can’t bring them to Hogwarts with us.” Which obviously meant they weren’t thinking, because there were at least two they could hide in the fourth year dormitory with them.

 

So Jessica was left to perch above the chaos of the night before Hogwarts and watch everyone rush around packing. She had been packed for two days considering all she’d had to do was gather the stuff she brought to the Weasley’s and throw it into her suitcase. But she didn’t mind being left alone. From her spot in the living room, she was able to see lots of interesting trinkets being passed around to each of the Weasleys as they tried to decide what to bring.

 

One was even left on the counter.

 

Jessica was careful to inspect it before she snatched it. It was a small little book with some fancy writing on the bottom that Ginny of all people had left after forgetting her socks. Looked perfectly new. As soon as she saw the word “diary” however, she knew she needed to take it. So she did, then ran it up to the twins’ bedroom.

 

“Look what I found!” she exclaimed excitedly. They both dropped what they were doing and raked their gaze over the cover.

 

“A diary?” Fred asked, taking it from Jessica to flip through the pages.

 

“It’s empty!” George exclaimed.

 

“It’s Ginny’s,” Jessica said, smirking. “Who wants to bet how many very interesting things we could find in there? After fixing the invisible ink thing, of course.” George pointed his finger and ran it down an open page.

 

“Doesn’t feel like invisible ink,” he pointed out.

 

“It’s not? Well, is it a spell then?” Jessica asked, moving closer.

 

Furious stomping feet had Fred tossing it under his bed (which was a feat in of its own right considering all the projects spilling out from underneath it). He had just made it disappear when their door swung open.

 

“Where is it?” Ginny demanded. It wasn’t very scary or convincing at all.

 

“Where is what?” Fred and George asked innocently.

 

“That book that was on the table! I know you took it!” she exclaimed. Jessica shrugged.

 

“Looked empty. Unless you’re hiding something?” she said, grinning.

 

“So you did take it!” Ginny gasped. “Give it back!”

 

“Why?” Jessica asked.

 

“It’s mine!” she responded.

 

“Not anymore,” Jessica spoke.

 

“I’m going to go tell mom!” she announced, then hurried back downstairs. Fred, George and Jessica rushed out leaned over the rail of the stairs, listening carefully.

 

“Mom, Fred and George stole my book!” Ginny whined.

 

“Not right now, sweetie, I’m making dinner,” Mrs. Weasley said dismissively.

 

“An absolutely wonderful smelling dinner,” Jessica whispered to the boys. They nodded in agreement.

 

“But they have my book!” Ginny continued. Just then the front door clicked shut and they heard Ginny say, “ _ Dad _ ! Fred, George, and Jessica took my book!”

 

“Fred, George, give your sister back her book!” Mr. Weasley called over half-heartedly. Fred and George gave a little laugh as Ginny sighed in frustration and stormed away from her parents. The three of them made sure to rush back into their room and close the door before her best friends’ little sister made it up the stairs.

 

Fred shoved what they were currently working on to its spot on the floor, then set the book down on the newly cleaned space halfway open.

 

“I got the tools!” he exclaimed, hopping over a heep of crumpled papers. He set them next to the book as Fred rushed to sit down, his wand out. Jessica watched carefully as they prepared, eager to see just what Ginny had been hiding.

 

For the next hour, the three of them performed every spell and technique they could think of to make invisible words visible again. Nothing worked. Not the invisible ink colorer, the spells of revealing invisible writing, or even their most cleverest tools and enchantments.

 

Finally, Fred leaned back in his chair and said, “Ginny isn’t clever enough to hide the words this brilliantly.”

 

“We could have seriously underestimated our sister, Gred,” George brought up.

 

“Or the book has spells already on it to help you hide it,” Jessica pointed out. “She could have bought it knowing we would steal it.”

 

“There  _ were  _ some pretty questionable protection charms on it,” Fred agreed.

 

“DINNER IS READY!” came the bellow of their mother shouting it up to the rest of the house.

 

“Bring it to Hogwarts, maybe we can ask Professor Flitwick about it,” George said.

 

“Not directly of course,” Fred said quickly with the questioning look on Jessica’s face.

 

“We’ve asked loads of strange questions to him and—” George went on.

 

“—he’s answered—” Fred said

“—every one of them,” they finished together. Jessica nodded.

 

“And if that doesn’t work, Elena will help. She likes solving puzzles like this,” Jessica said. Then she took the book and threw it in her suitcase, which looked nothing less than a tower of unpacked, unsorted clothes.

 

The next day, Jessica felt awful. Not only was the full moon just a day away, but she had to be up early just to watch everyone rushing around everywhere, being far too loud for morning. When everyone finally did get into the car, they had to return three times for something. By the time they actually got onto the road, they were very late.

 

Not that Jessica wasn’t used to this. Having three sisters and Neville meant Gran’s house was just as busy when it came to going somewhere. And they were never, ever on time.

 

So it wasn’t very difficult for Jessica to keep up with the Weasley’s as they rushed through King’s Cross, gaining a million stares from the muggles they passed.

 

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were so busy making sure everyone was hurrying that they didn’t even notice Jessica drop one of her books. She growled under her breath as she bent down to pick it up.

 

“Keep going, I’ll catch up with you on the train!” Jessica called over to Fred and George, who had both stopped to see if she was okay. They nodded and raced after their parents.

 

Once she threw the book back into her back, she jogged up beside Ron and Harry as the Weasley parents went through the wall of an arch with Ginny, disappearing at the end. Jessica always wondered what it looked like to see someone go through. She was not disappointed.

 

“Let’s go together, we’ve only got a minute,” Ron said quickly. After a nod from Harry, they ran full speed at the wall of an arch. Jessica laughed when they crashed into it. Harry and Ron were both thrown to the ground as they got tangled in their trolleys, and Hedwig’s cage went rolling onto the ground.

 

“What in the blazes do you think you’re doing?” asked a nearby guard as Ron hurried to pick up the very angry owl.

 

“Lost control of the trolley,” Harry said as he stumbled to his feet, grasping his ribs. The guard shook his head as they brought their trolleys upright and put their stuff back into place.

 

“I didn’t think it was possible to crash into the gateway,” Jessica laughed as she watched them.

 

“It’s solid!” Ron shouted at her.

 

“Why can’t we get through?” Harry hissed to Ron.

 

“I dunno—”

 

“Let me try,” Jessica sighed, and readied herself. She walked up to the barrier slowly. She expected the trolley to go right through, but it didn’t she frowned.

 

“What in Merlin’s name—?”

 

“See? It’s blocking us!” Ron exclaimed.

 

“We’re going to miss the train…” Harry murmured, looking at the clock. They all watched as it hit eleven, and then passed it.

 

“It’s gone,” Ron said, his eyes wide. “The train’s left. What if Mum and Dad can’t get back through to us?” He set his ear to the barrier. “I can’t hear a thing. What are we going to do? I don’t know how long it will take for Mum and Dad to get back.”

 

Jessica sniffed silently. She couldn’t smell anything out of the ordinary. Nothing extraordinary by wizard standards, anyway.

 

“We should get back to the car—”

 

“The car!” Ron exclaimed. Jessica narrowed her eyes.

 

“What about the car?” Harry asked.

 

“You want to fly the car to Hogwarts?” Jessica guessed.

 

“But I thought—” Harry began.

 

“We’re stuck, right? And we’ve got to get to school, haven’t we? And even underage wizards are allowed to use magic if it’s a real emergency, section nineteen or something of the Restriction of Thingy—”

 

“This isn’t what that Law had in—”

 

“But your mom and dad…” said Harry. “How will they get home?”

 

“Apparition,” Jessica said with a shrug. “They’re adult wizards afterall.”

 

“Apparition?” Harry asked. Jessica rolled her eyes. Harry’s lack of magical knowledge was downright annoying.

 

“It’s like vanishing and then reappearing back at home,” Ron explained. Harry seemed to relax with that information.

 

“Can you fly the car?” Harry asked, obviously referring to the car.

 

“No problem,” Ron said with a grin on his face. “C’mon, let’s go. If we hurry we’ll be able to follow the Hogwarts Express to Hogwarts—”

 

“Don’t you two know that we could get into trouble?” Jessica asked.

 

“When has that ever stopped you?” Ron pointed out. It was a very good point. Jessica just didn’t want to be refused entry to Hogwarts.

 

‘ _ Then again, if I wait for Ron’s parents, I probably won’t make it to Hogwarts in time for the Sorting…’ _ Jessica thought, and she didn’t  _ want  _ to miss that for the world. They’d certainly not let her in if she didn’t show up for that. Then she would have to be bored for another whole year at Gran’s, pretending not to exist.

 

So Jessica followed the Boy-Who-Lived and Ronald Weasley to the flying car. It took them a few minutes to shove their stuff into the enlarged trunk, but soon they were all buckled in and ready to go.

 

Ron started the car and pushed the invisibility button. Then they rose through the air as if they were truly flying. Jessica was smiling. What an exciting first trip to Hogwarts!

 

And then the invisibility wore off.

 

“Uh-oh, its faulty…” Ron said. But he and Harry smashed the button as many times as they could. The car went invisible…then it wasn’t.

 

“Drive!” Jessica shouted. Ron put the accelerator all the way to the floor and they flew into the clouds, leaving everything dull and grey.

 

“Now what?” said Harry.

 

“We need to know which direction to go in,” Ron answered.

 

“Dip back down again—quickly—”

 

Ron lowered the car out of the clouds. Jessica heard the train and then spotted it winding through the area like a red snake.

 

“There!” she exclaimed.

 

“Due north,” Ron said. “Okay, we’ll just have to check every half and hour or so—hold on—”

 

And they soared above the clouds, the sun lighting up the car while they skimmed the top of the wispy, forever shifting clouds below them. Jessica looked around in curiosity. It wasn’t too interesting, but several smells filled her nose that kept her occupied as she tried to put a name to each scent. Grass…gas…cat…metal…candle…

 

But as the hours went on, the less she was amused by this little game she liked to play. The sun was coating the clouds pink, the toffees were gone, there was nothing to drink, and Jessica was cooking in the back, hoping she wouldn’t be glued to the seat by her sweat.

 

Jessica heard the engine’s regular hum dip into a sputter. It must have been too slight for either Harry or Ron to hear, they just kept on talking. She didn’t say anything at first. But when it continued to sputter and whine louder and louder, she grew worried.

 

“Uh, Ron, I don’t think the car is alright,” she told him.

 

“What d’you mean? It’s running fine,” Ron said. “Ready for another check on the train?” They swooped down to see it was still chugging along north, now surrounded by rolling green fields and the occasional little farm house. When Ron drove back up into the clouds, the engine gave the loudest whine ever. Harry and Ron gave each other an anxious look.

 

“It’s probably just tired…” Ron said for reassurance. “It has never been this far before…”

 

But it was not just tired. It was feeling how Jessica felt just before the full moon. Or right after, depending how one looked at it. Either way, she knew it was not going to last much longer, and suddenly the idea of just taking a car to Hogwarts seemed like the most foolish, idiotic idea she’d ever had.

 

“Not far…” Ron said as night fell.

 

“There!” Harry exclaimed, throwing his hand forward to point at the gigantic castle perched on the cliff behind the lake.

 

Jessica would never admit it, but she was amazed. She had seen pictures before, of course, and Audrey had made sure to describe the school down to the last detail, but in person it was completely different. It was bigger, richer, and Jessica could just imagine the magic going on around it.  _ Within it. _

 

And then the car fell.

 

Jessica held onto the seat as tightly as she held onto the treebranch the day she woke up on the full moon in a tree so many years ago. Ron and Harry were screaming. Jessica closed her eyes tight, not daring to breathe—

 

_ CRASH _

 

It took Jessica a second or two to realize the car was no longer falling. When she looked up, the scent of tree came to her nose. Broken tree.

 

“Are you okay?” asked Harry.

 

“My wand…” said Ron in a shaky volume so low Jessica was sure only her werewolf ears could pick it up. “Look at my wand—”

 

**_BAM_ **

 

Jessica was thrown to the side of the car. Another loud bang echoed above her as the ceiling of the car bent and broke. Then another bang, along with the groaning and moaning of the tree in front of them. The branches swung through the air, hissing angrily before smashing into the car.

 

“Run!” Ron shouted. She had no problem following that command. As soon as she grasped the door handle, however, the engine of the car sprang to life.

 

“ _ Reverse _ !” Harry ordered his friend, grabbing his arm. Ron slammed his foot down and the car shot backwards, just missing another branch. They backed up until they were out of the trees reach.

 

“That,” breathed Ron, “was close. Well done, car—”

 

Jessica felt gears inside the car shift. Then the door next to her opened and her seat dumped her onto the cold, wet grass. She scrambled to her feet as the car threw the trunks out, then the cages. Ron and Harry managed to catch theirs. Jessica did too, barely. Her tawny owl screeched and fluffed his wings angrily at her.

 

“Dad’ll kill me,” Ron said woefully. Jessica rolled her eyes. The car disappearing just meant the evidence disappeared.

 

“Can you believe our luck? Of all the trees we could have hit we just  _ had _ to pick the one that hits back,” Ron continued.

 

“We’d better get up to the school,” Harry said. So they grabbed their trunks and began the marge up to the school. Harry and Ron both seemed miserable and wet. Jessica, on the other hand, was used to long hikes in less than ideal conditions.

 

“Hey, look! I think the Feast has started!” Ron exclaimed. He dropped his trunk near the steps of what Jessica could only assume was the Entrance Hall and dashed over to a window. Jessica and Harry followed suit, peering through.

 

It was bigger than she could have ever imagined. The floating candles, the ceiling that put the stars on full display, the sea of black pointed hats, the four long tables, the stone, the wood…

Jessica noticed a group of scared young children being lead to a stool and a hat. She gasped.

 

“The Sorting has started! I have to get in there!” she exclaimed. The last thing she wanted was to be sent home on the train forced to wait another year in the boring silence of Gran’s house. So she spun around and reached for her trunk.

 

Only to see Severus Snape standing directly behind them.

 

For one tiny moment, she considered running. She was certainly faster than Snape and she was quite sure she could sneak into the group of nervous first years and no one would notice. But then she realized she wasn’t in her Hogwarts robes. If she just burst into the Great Hall, she would still get into trouble.

 

“Hang on…” Harry muttered to Ron. “There’s and empty chair at the staff table…Where’s Snape?”

 

“Maybe he’s ill!” said Ron hopefully.

 

“Maybe he’s left,” Harry played on, “because he missed out on the Defense Against the Dark Arts job  _ again _ !” Ron burst into a fast laugh.

 

“Or he might have been sacked! I mean everyone hates him—”

 

“Or maybe,” said Snape, obviously enjoying both terrified gasps of the two second year Gryffindors behind Jessica, “he’s waiting to hear why you two didn’t arrive on the school train.” 

 

Jessica heard the two turn slowly to face the doom in front of them.

 

“Follow me,” said Snape coldly, and dramatically swooped up to the Entrance Hall.

 

Unsurprisingly, Snape took them away from the beautiful smelling feast and down into the dark, cold dungeon. How Amanda had actually  _ wanted  _ to live down in a place like that was beyond Jessica. She was going to be much happier in the warm Gryffindor tower.

 

_ ‘If I don’t get expelled first,’  _ Jessica thought sadly.

 

“In!” Snape hissed, opening a door along the passageway. They shuffled in. It was even darker in what Jessica assumed was Snape’s office. There were shelves of unique ingredients; some were rare bits that Jessica would kill to have, others she couldn’t even name. There were several jars, too, all holding floating things that Jessica really wanted to get a closer look at.

 

“So,” said Snape. Oh, that’s right. She had to get into trouble first. “the train isn’t good enough for the famous Harry Potter and his faithful sidekick Weasley. And I assume you just wanted a good laugh for your first day at Hogwarts? Wanted to arrive with a  _ bang _ ?” Jessica just shrugged. Snape got ready to yell at her some more, but Ron cut him off.

 

“No, sir, it was the barrier at King’s Cross, it—”

 

“Silence!” hissed Snape. “What have you done with the car?” Jessica narrowed her eyes. Did he use Legilimency on one of them? But then he pulled out a newspaper, the  _ Daily Prophet. _

 

“You were seen,” the potions master seethed. “Two Muggles in London, convinced they saw an old car flying over the Post Office tower…at noon in Norfolk, Mrs. Peebles, reported to police…Six or seven Muggles in all. I believe your father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office? Dear, dear…his own son…”

 

Ron went white. Harry lowered his head. Jessica just waited to see what the punishment was going to be. No one could seriously even prove it was them, if she were honest. There was a lot of assuming on Snape’s part.

 

“I noticed, in my search of the park, that considerable damage seems to have been done to a very valuable Whomping Willow,” Snape went on.

 

“That tree did more damage to us than we—” Ron blurted.

 

“ _ Silence _ !” snapped Snape. “Most unfortunately, you are not in my House and the decision to expel you does not rest with me. I shall go and fetch the people who  _ do  _ have that happy power. You will wait here.”

 

‘I’m not even in a house. Does that mean I can’t get expelled at all?’ Jessica thought. She pondered this as Snape glided out of the room and shut the door behind them, leaving them in silence. Perhaps she could not get kicked out after all. They could maybe keep her from coming to school, but what good would that do, a teenager without any control of her magic? A werewolf too. Jessica smirked. Snape and Dumbledore wouldn’t force her to stay away from school. Her sisters were apparently pretty important, if last year was anything to go by, and she was sure that as stupid as her dad was, he would have some convoluted reason to make sure she would be accepted into Hogwarts, no questions asked.

 

Feeling much better at her chances at being sorted within the day, Jessica waited patiently, thinking of all the ways she was going to let Fred and George know just what she had done on her first trip to Hogwarts.

 

Several minutes later, Snape returned. Professor McGonagall returned with him. She was a tall old woman with awful glasses and, well, she was old. But Jessica still felt a very commanding presence from her, and she even felt a little sad that the deputy headmaster looked so disappointed in them..

 

She took out her wand and flicked at the fire, lighting in.

 

“Sit,” she said, and pointed at three chairs next to the fire. They obeyed quickly.

 

“Explain,” she ordered. Ron was the one who explained. He started with the broken barrier and ended with the adventures they had with the very angry Whomping Willow.

 

“…and then the car kicked us out and all our luggage, and ran off.”

 

“Ran off?” Professor McGonagall prodded.

 

“Well, I suppose it had never flown that far before—”

 

“The point is, we had no choice, Professor, we couldn’t get on the train,” Jessica interrupted, giving Ron a sideways look. He didn’t seem to understand or care. But at least he didn’t blurt out that his family had actually owned the car.

 

“Why didn’t you send us a letter by owl?” Professor McGonagall asked her.

 

“It isn’t  _ my  _ fault Harry forgot to use his owl!” she exclaimed.

 

“Miss Coppin, if I am not mistaken, you have an owl too,” the Head of Gryffindor House reminded her coldly.

 

Thinking of nothing else to say, she blurted, “It isn’t my fault Harry and I forgot to use our owls!” McGonagall looked ready to give her a month’s detention, but a knock on the door interrupted her. Snape opened the door.

 

Dumbledore stepped in.

 

Jessica was unimpressed. His robes were brighter than anything even Delilah tended to wear, he was old, his blue eyes looked dull, and he looked overall just like your everyday grandpa wizard. Harry, however, shrank like the devices the troublemaking trio had created.

 

“Please explain why you did this.”

 

Harry explained this time. He was much better at avoiding where the car came from and how they knew to use it. Overall the excuse was weak, but no one interrupted him to mention that, which made it more successful than Jessica could have hoped for.

 

“We’ll go and get our stuff,” said Ron hopelessly.

 

“What are you talking about, Weasley?” barked Professor McGonagall.

 

“Well you’re expelling us, aren’t you?” asked Ron.

 

“Not today, Mr. Weasley,” said Dumbledore. Jessica grinned. ‘ _ Guessed it.’  _ “But I must impress upon all three of you the seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing to all of your families tonight. I must also warn you that if you do anything like this again, I will have no choice but to expel you.”

 

Jessica sighed with relief. Nothing too bad then. Neither Gran nor her father really cared about her, so they wouldn’t care one way or another if she almost blew the wizarding secret to the muggle world.

 

Snape stepped forward, the scowl replacing the wicked grin he’d had on earlier. "Professor Dumbledore, these boys have flouted the Degree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, caused serious damage to an old and valuable tree—surely acts of this nature—”

 

“It will be for Professor McGonagall to decide on their punishments, Severus. They are in her House and therefore her responsibility,” said Professor Dumbledore.

 

Jessica gave a loud cough, causing everyone in the room to look her way. She smiled innocently as they stared.

 

“Ah yes, I nearly forgot,” said Dumbledore. He reached into his robes and pulled out the old, tattered hat her sisters had written to her about. “Miss Coppin still needs to be Sorted.”

 

He handed the old thing to Professor McGonagall, who stood and walked toward her.

 

“Here?” Jessica asked.

 

“The Sorting Ceremony is over,” the deputy headmistress explained sternly. Jessica’s heart fell a little. Her sisters got to be the shining stars on their sorting day, and she had to be sorted in Snape’s office. But she shrugged it off as she felt the hat slip onto her head.

 

_ Another Coppin, eh? The last one….one of the most interesting ones, however, hmm… _

 

_ ‘Come on. Come on,’  _ she thought. _ ‘Just say it. Just yell out Gryffindor already!’ _

 

_ Ah yes, I think I know just where to put you. Better be… _

 

“SLYTHERIN!”

 

Jessica blinked.

 

Had she heard that right?

 

No, that was impossible. It  _ must  _ have said Gryffindor. It  _ had  _ to have said Gryffindor. She looked around at the faces around her as Professor McGonagall took off the hat. Dumbledore didn’t change his expression, but Professor McGonagall looked puzzled. When she glanced at Snape, she saw a look of horror of which she had never seen on the potions master’s face when he had tutored Amanda.

 

That clinched it. It had definitely said Slytherin.

 

But why? She wasn’t domineering or conniving or constantly worried about power like Amanda was. She didn’t even think she was that ambitious.

 

“Well then, Severus, Minerva and I will leave you with your new student,” Professor Dumbledore spoke. The old man turned and strode out of the room, followed by Professor McGonagall, Ron and Harry, all leaving an absolutely stunned Severus Snape behind.

 

The potions master turned, but didn’t say anything. His expression was now a mix of complete shock and utter disgust. Who could blame him? Everyone knew she was going to be just like Fred and George Weasley. He was probably wondering how many points were going to be taken from Slytherin just based on her rulebreaking alone.

 

Jessica grinned. Snape wasn’t her favorite person in the world. He had always looked at her like she was some rabid dog, and pretended she didn’t exist otherwise. Perhaps it was because she was a werewolf. Either way, if Snape hated her that much…Well, being in his house would prove the ultimate revenge against him, and she was quite sure Fred and George would not mind helping in that revenge.

 

“You don’t have to expel me,” Jessica said innocently. “Technically I did all that before term even—”

 

“Silence!” Snape shouted finally. It must have been his favorite word. “For damaging that tree you will serve three weeks detention. Now come with me.” He whirled around and stormed out of the room. Jessica skipped behind him, still smiling.

 

They went through the cold, dark dungeons at a pace much faster than any normal walk. Then they came to a dead end and Jessica became very confused. Snape muttered something, however, and the stone wall moved, revealing a passageway inside.

 

“What about dinner?” Jessica asked. She was starving. Snape looked at her as if she were a very large inconvenience, but he conjured a plate and a couple of weak looking sandwiches, gave them to her, and glided away down the hall. Jessica sighed and strode into the Slytherin common room.  _ Her  _ common room. She was going to have to get used to saying that.

 

Jessica shouldn’t have been shocked at what she saw, but she was. There were carvings along the long, stone wall, all of various vicious-looking snakes. From the stone ceiling hung greenish lamps that looked more expensive than the entire Burrow. The black chairs were just as glamorous, and everything about the place reminded Jessica of the pureblood wizards: the perfectly clean room, the elaborately placed furniture all set perfectly to prevent tripping, and the way everything matched precisely in color.

 

But what Jessica found strange was that they were under a lake. She could hear the lapping of the waves and the smell the muggy water. She wondered what in Merlin’s name made Salazar Slytherin decide to have his common room under the lake in a dungeon.

 

‘Maybe the other founders forced him here,’ Jessica said with a shrug. She sat down on the nearest comfy armchair and wolfed (hehe) down her food. She was still hungry by the end of it, but knew she was not getting anymore. So she just sat back and waited for the feast to end, because if she was honest, she had no idea where the dormitories were or even which dormitory she belonged to, and she didn’t want to set off any of the alarms she was certain the Slytherin had.

 

She was bored for ten horrible minutes before she heard people coming down the hallway. She heard Amanda, too, hissing at anyone who mentioned the words ‘Harry’ and ‘flying car.’ It didn’t sound like she was in a good mood at all.

 

The first few people who piled through the door didn’t even look at her. But as more and more students came through, they all started whispering, and those whispers spread like dust in the wind.

 

“What,” came Amanda’s voice as she stood in front of the passage way, her face as dark and grim as the night Jessica was turned into a werewolf, “are you doing here?”

 

“Didn’t Snape tell you? I got sorted into Slytherin,” Jessica said, smirking. Oh this was going to be so much fun.

 

“You weren’t even at the Sorting!” Amanda hissed. “Do you have any idea of how worried our sisters were? Audrey and Elena searched  _ the whole train _ for you!”

 

“It isn’t  _ my  _ fault the barrier decided not to work,” Jessica said with a shrug.

 

“So you took a  _ flying car? _ ” Amanda asked.

 

“I  _ improvised _ ,” Jessica corrected with a theatrical hand gesture. Amanda gave something in between a sigh and a frustrated growl. Theo, meanwhile, was shaking his head behind her trying very hard not to laugh.

 

“You don’t belong here,” said an older student.

 

“Then go talk to Snape, he’s the one who opened the door for me,” Jessica countered, leaning into the chair even more. The older student’s fists were clenched so hard he looked ready to punch her to death. But he gave a sideways look to Amanda and settled. Jessica smirked. _ ‘So being Amanda’s sister has perks in this place,’ _ she thought, a million new ideas coming to her head.

 

“The first years say there’s an extra bed,” spoke one of the prefects, surrounded by little midgets.

 

“Told you,” Jessica said. Amanda looked ready to burst. Jessica could guess why; she was trying to be responsible for her unwelcome little sister while also trying not to show just how furious she was at the whole situation. It was hard feat for anyone, particularly someone as annoying and stupid as Amanda.

 

“Well,” Jessica said, then she made a show of yawning and stretching. “I’m exhausted. See you tomorrow, sis!” And she walked straight up to her room, fell into bed, and went to sleep, dreaming of all the trouble she, Fred, and George were going to get into the following week. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter was totally not derived from the outline the google document gave my Beta.


	4. Delilah's Discovery

The morning after the beginning of term feast was full of surprises and confusion for Delilah. With no answer yet on what had happened to Jessica, Delilah had to be content with the knowledge Professor Sprout had given her: Jessica had arrived safely.   
  
It helped settle her as she waited for Cedric to come down from his dormitory into the common room so he could lead her to the Great Hall. He had done this for her every day at Hogwarts last year to help her get to the Great Hall without being distracted by other scents. She waited patiently on a little ottoman watching everyone who walked by.   
  
But he never came.   
  
Delilah even watched for Evan or Rory, Cedric’s close friends, to arrive, yet she didn’t see them either. She sighed and decided he must have just forgotten about her that day, or perhaps he had something like Quidditch to attend to early in the morning.   
  
The wolf girl stood and followed the crowd. She was disappointed, but not sad. Cedric was very popular and important, he couldn’t just hang out with her all day. She knew this, accepted this, and moved on. But she had still been excited to see him. After all, they hadn’t seen each other in weeks. Cedric had been awfully busy over the summer, and when she suggested meeting him at his house, he had told her his father didn’t really like strangers over. So all they could do was write letters, and though Delilah had never missed a letter and had always responded within a day, she missed seeing his wide, charming smile, his warm laugh, and especially listening to his exciting Quidditch stories.   
  
Delilah made it to the Great Hall without any misdirection. Perhaps it was because the room was not quiet that morning. There was more than one heated debate at the Ravenclaw table, and Delilah heard several of them talking about schedules and the different classes they were taking. The Gryffindors were energetic, electrified with this new change of pace from their summer days. Her own Hufflepuffs were all sharing breakfast politely, asking each other how their summer went, and already planning outings with friends.

  
It was only the Slytherins who seemed subdued, all whispering to one another. Several mentioned the words “Jessica” and “Coppin.” The wolf sister knew why immediately.   
  
Jessica, the youngest of them all, was sitting at the Slytherin table in a Slytherin robe munching away at bacon and sausages simultaneously as the other first years watched in some mix of awe and horror.   
  
_ ‘She got sorted into Slytherin? _ ’ Delilah thought.  _ ‘But that doesn’t make any sense… _ ’ Yet it was the only explanation. She wasn’t sitting next to Amanda, they were actually sitting at opposite ends of the table. So their little sister wasn’t just visiting Amanda from the Gryffindor table or harassing her by wearing a Slytherin robe. The whispers told the truth.   
  
“Hey, Delilah!”   
  
The middle child turned and smiled as she saw Rory waving, his short curls bouncing along with his body, and Evan, his blue eyes welcoming her warmly. Delilah grinned and made her way over to Cedric’s friends. She didn’t see Cedric, so once again she assumed he was busy.   
  
“Hello,” she said as she sat down. She took a plate and started loading it up. There seemed to be quite a selection of food that morning.   
  
“Finally decided to show up, Coppin?” Rory said teasingly. Delilah shook her head.   
  
“I was waiting for Cedric,” she told them.   
  
“Oh, yeah, he’s busy with, er, Quidditch stuff,” Rory said, looking away quickly.   
  
“I’m sure he’ll be around soon,” Evan promised. “How was your summer?”   
  
“Okay,” she answered, and launched into the story of how Amanda had been in the forest one evening by their house and had found a huge snake that had followed her around for the rest of the summer.   
  
“JESSICA!” bellowed Fred and George as they sprinted through the doors, cutting Delilah’s story short. Everyone in the Great Hall watched as Jessica bounced up from the Slytherin table and ran up to meet them.   
  
“Why didn’t you tell us you were in Slytherin?” asked one of the twins.   
  
“Well I tried to tell the hat to put me in Gryffindor, but I think it knew how much I wanted to ruin Snape’s day after all the yelling he did last night,” Jessica responded, that trickster smile clear on her face. Delilah smiled at the joke, then she remembered she was likely the only person from the Hufflepuff table to be able to hear that conversation, so she started eating some bacon to hide it.   
  
“You didn’t deserve to be yelled at! He should have celebrated you!” exclaimed one of the twins.   
  
“It isn’t easy to break the ‘First to Break the Rules’ record!” the other twin exclaimed.   
  
“Especially since—   
  
“—we were the one—”   
  
“—to break it last time!” They finished together. Jessica gave them a roll of her eyes.   
  
“Of course I beat you. I can always do it better.”   
  
“Well, we’ll see about that!” they laughed.   
  
“But first, you better tell us how to get into the Slytherin common room,” one of them told her.   
  
“We’ve been trying to get in since last year,” the other explained.   
  
“I can get you in easily,” Jessica said with a smirk. “C’mon, I’ll explain everything.” She led them to her lonely spot at the Slytherin table. Even though there were at least seven seats available where she sat, the Slytherins all seemed to hiss like their namesake at the sight of the two Gryffindors at the table.   
  
“They can’t sit here, they’re Gryffindors!” hissed one of the older year students.   
  
“They’re my friends, and there’s nothing against the rules that says they can’t,” Jessica said with a shrug. It was as if she considered it no big deal.   
  
“They aren’t allowed,” the student said, adding force to his voice. Jessica shrugged.   
  
“Make me,” she said dismissively, and turned toward Fred and George, who both shared identical wide grins. Delilah noticed the Slytherins all looking to Amanda or the prefects, or some of the older students, but no one did anything. Amanda glared at her little sister like she would curse her right then and there, but she didn’t make a move either.   
  
“What was that all about?” came Rory’s voice.   
  
“Jessica let Fred and George sit at the Slytherin table, and the Slytherins didn’t like it,” Delilah answered without honestly thinking. Neither Evan nor Rory seemed to notice however.   
  
“Sounds like the Slytherins,” Evan sighed.   
  
“It serves them right! They’re the only ones with that stupid ‘Slytherin’s only’ rule. What, do they think we’re not good enough?” Rory asked, a disgusted look on his face.   
  
“You can’t be cunning if everyone knows your secrets,” Delilah said softly. Both of Cedric’s friends gave her a confused stare. She simply blinked. “Amanda told me that.”   
  
After that they went to talk about Quidditch. Delilah listened intently, only breaking her concentration when a Howler started screaming throughout the Great Hall. Ron was red the entire time and all the way out to the greenhouses.   
  
Delilah nearly skipped alongside them, having Herbology as well. She was going to get to do Herbology and it was the day before the full moon. It made her jumpy.   
  
“Hello, Delilah,” Harry said politely.   
  
“Hi,” she said back, hoping they would pick up the pace. She wanted nothing more than to get into the greenhouses.   
  
“Did you see what happened with Jessica today?” Harry asked. “I thought Snape was going to come down and expel her for sure.” Delilah tilted her head.   
  
“Why? It’s not against the rules to sit at another House’s table,” she said.   
  
“You think Snape would care? He looked ready to burst when the hat called out Slytherin,” Ron said, “I don’t think he’s very happy to have your sister in his house.”   
  
“He will get over it,” Delilah said with a shrug. Then she stopped, smelling the sharp scent of perfume. She coughed.   
  
“What’s Lockhart doing here? Isn’t he our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?” Delilah asked. Ron searched the grounds.   
  
“What do you mean? I don’t see—”   
  
“There!” Hermione shouted, pointing at the brilliantly dressed man walking around the greenhouses with Professor Sprout.   
  
“Greenhouse Three today!” Professor Sprout shouted. She sounded angry. Perhaps she hadn’t liked talking to Lockhart.   
  
Either way, Delilah tried to restrain herself to a walk as they milled on over to the new Greenhouse. They had never been allowed in Greenhouse Three, but she knew what was in there based on their smell alone: Venomous Tentacula, Mandrake, and the sharp perfume of a lovely flower that had a nasty habit of—   
  
“Think of what we’ll be able to see in there!” Neville exclaimed beside her. She had been so excited, she’d forgotten about the poor boy. Yet he looked as excited as she did, which made her tilt her head. She knew Neville was good at Herbology, but not that he enjoyed it.   
  
They all filed inside as Lockhart spoke with Professor Sprout some more. Inside there were several pots and the distinct round leaf of a mandrake. Delilah noticed the earmuffs and the small stems and realized they must be young. She doubted a teacher would allow students to deal with them otherwise.   
  
“Are those Mandrakes?” Neville asked. “Earmuffs…Maybe they’re young.” Once again, as the students all found their places, Delilah blinked at the boy with surprise bright in her eyes. He knew as much as she did, it seemed.   
  
Harry joined them from outside, looking particularly confused. When he took his spot beside Hermione and Ron, Professor Sprout started: “We’ll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?”   
  
_ ‘Restoration, heals cursed and transfigured people,’  _ Delilah thought.   
  
“They heal people, reversing transfiguration, curses, or petrification,” Neville murmured  so quietly she was certain she was the only one who could hear him. He certainly did know as much as she did! Of course, neither of them raised their hand, letting Hermione get the points.   
  
“If you knew the answer why didn’t you hold up your hand?” Delilah whispered to him sincerely. He flinched as if taken aback by her question.   
  
“Why didn’t you?” he said back quickly, as if unsure to be shocked she heard him, surprised she cared enough to comment, or angry she was making the comment at all.   
  
_ ‘Good point, _ ’ Delilah thought.   
  
“…also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?”   
  
Delilah’s hand shot up. Sprout nodded to her.   
  
“Anyone who hears the cry of the Mandrake dies,” she answered. Professor Sprout beamed with pride.   
  
“Precisely, ten points to Hufflepuff,” she said. “Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young.” She pointed to the trays of Mandrakes, all sleeping soundly in their little pot beds. They looked and smelled nearly the same as any garden plant, except for the slight hint of human, particularly baby.   
  
Everyone was ordered to take a pair of earmuffs. There was a scramble, all trying to get their color or avoid getting a ‘girly’ color. Delilah just quietly grabbed a pair of bright, neon yellow earmuffs and retreated back to her spot. Neville joined her, a dull gray pair in his grasp.   
  
Delilah’s head of house told them to put on their earmuffs before she demonstrated how to repot them. Delilah eagerly waited as Professor Sprout grasped the little stems and pulled hard.   
  
Then a sharp cry pierced her ears. She had only enough time to give a startled cry before her vision completely turned off.   
  
When Delilah opened her eyes, she could see several blurry figures above her, all peering curiously. One of the figures she recognized by smell just before her vision returned: Professor Sprout.   
  
“What happened?” asked a boy from Hufflepuff, Justin Finch-Fletchly.   
  
“It appears she didn’t put on her earmuffs correctly,” Professor Sprout spoke. That was went Delilah realized she was on her back. She had fainted. But why? She’d been wearing her earmuffs just like everyone else…   
  
Professor Sprout helped Delilah sit, a careful hand on her back. Delilah’s senses were all off, refusing to work. Her head throbbed, every sound in the room was muffled, and the room seemed to be tilting on her vision. Her smell seemed to be working, though. She thanked Merlin for that as her head of house gently hoisted her to her feet.   
  
“Do you feel alright?” Professor Sprout asked. Delilah lied with a nod. “Well, just to be safe, I think you’d better go to the hospital wing.”   
  
“I can take her!” Hermione said immediately, stepping forward. “I know all about the Mandrakes, I won’t be missing a thing.” Professor Sprout gave the second year Gryffindor a kind, amused smile.   
  
“Alright. Make sure to tell Madam Pomfrey exactly what happened,” Professor Sprout told her. Hermione nodded dutifully and lead Delilah out of the greenhouse. She wanted to stay so bad, but there didn’t seem to be any other earmuffs left but the ones that didn’t work.   
  
Just a few steps out of the green house, and Hermione put a hand on her shoulder.   
  
“Are you okay?” she asked. Delilah nodded. That time it was the truth. The fresh air seemed to be clearing her senses. Her hearing was still a little off and she still had a headache, but everything else was fine.   
  
“I can’t believe Professor Sprout didn’t think of your hearing. I suppose I should have thought of it too, but I thought maybe the earmuffs were enough,” Hermione went on.   
  
“My hearing?” Delilah asked. Hermione stopped and blinked at her.   
  
“Don’t you have stronger hearing because of your shapeshifting ability?” Hermione said.   
  
“Oh,” Delilah responded. She had completely forgotten that her hearing was better than normal witches and wizards. It wasn’t just because of the fact she could turn into a wolf. It was because she had been forced to stay in the form of a wolf for several months when she had first transformed at six years old, so her hearing had adjusted as a human too. It was just a normal, everyday ability for her, like being really good at Quidditch.   
  
Suddenly she was glad Herbology was first for her and not Audrey, whose hearing was stronger than Delilah’s. Delilah’s eyes narrowed. She needed to let her sisters know, they were headed to Herbology just before lunch.   
  
Delilah took an assertive step forward and felt a fresh wave of dizziness claim her. She doubted she would make it far up the steps to the Transfiguration room before passing out again, or at least that’s how she felt.   
  
“We should get to the hospital wing,” she said, instead deciding Madam Pomfrey would pass on the knowledge to Audrey and Amanda before they went to Herbology.   
  
“Does Madam Pomfrey know about you?” Hermione asked after they had continued walking. Delilah nodded. “Alright. I’ll try to act like I don’t, even so. I know this is supposed to be a secret.” The second year Gryffindor put another hand on her shoulder and lead her toward the castle. Delilah didn’t want the hand on her shoulder, it felt awkward, but Hermione was trying to help, so she let her be.   
  
Delilah spent the rest of the period in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey told her she was fine, just recovering from the cry. The medi-witch had also been certain to send a message to Professor Flitwick and Professor Snape so they could help get their students out of class before they fainted at the cry too.   
  
“Snakes can’t hear very well,” Madam Pomfrey had spoken as she gave Delilah a potion, “but we ought not take our chances with Amanda.”   
  
She was let out of the infirmary just as the second class started, just to make sure there weren’t questions raised at her milling around the castle during class.   
  
When she returned to her classmates, she was surprised that almost all of them came up to her and asked if she was okay. She shouldn’t have been shocked, though. She and Cedric had been accredited with helping Hufflepuff win the House Cup the previous year, and her house was very kind anyways. They were always worried about their own.   
  
It wasn’t until lunch, however, that Delilah grasped how far the news of the Herbology mishap had traveled.   
  
“Delilah!”   
  
She had been just about to sit down to eat lunch in the Great Hall, but turned when she heard the call. Cedric Diggory was weaving through the stream of people, trying his hardest to get to her.   
  
“Cedric?” she asked with a tilt to her head.   
  
“I came as soon as heard, are you okay?” he asked. He wasn’t smiling, obviously worried. She nodded, smiling.   
  
“Madam Pomfrey made sure I was okay,” Delilah responded. He gave a sigh of relief.   
  
“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, I just heard from Rory who heard it from a student in your year,” Cedric explained. Delilah gigled.   
  
“I’m fine, Cedric, really,” she reassured him. That earned her a beautiful Cedric smile, one that made her grin even wider.   
  
“That’s good,” he said. Then his stomach growled.   
  
“We should eat,” she declared, also hungry. Cedric nodded and they both sat down together. It was strange being with him at lunch yet not at breakfast. The older Hufflepuff usually had Quidditch mates to hang out with, or studying to do. He was very busy.   
  
“So…how do you feel about Jessica being in Slytherin?” Cedric asked curiously as they ate. Delilah shrugged, bringing forth the thoughts she had been having the whole day.   
  
“I thought she would be in Gryffindor. I suppose now that I think about it Slytherin makes sense. I hope Professor Snape isn’t too hard on her, though. Those two have never gotten along,” Delilah mused. It was an odd relationship. Every single time Jessica had walked into the same room as the potions master, he would turn away with a look if disgust. Delilah just assumed he had something against werewolves.   
  
“Do you…does your family spend a lot of time with Professor Snape?” Cedric wondered. Delilah found that an odd question. But she answered anway.   
  
“Professor Snape was in charge of teaching Amanda how to be a pureblood like the Malfoy’s. Our mother wanted it that way for some reason. Usually everyone would just meet at the Notts. It was never within the same week though. Not even two weeks. Gran didn’t like to travel much,” Delilah explained, munching through some bread. It was more for Jessica’s safety than theirs, though Delilah guessed it was easier to keep three sporadic kids at home than try to make sure they didn’t transform in the middle of a muggle street.   
  
“Did you ever see your dad there?” Cedric went on.   
  
“No. We haven’t seen him since mom died,” Delilah replied. Though she thought she’d told him that before. What was the sudden interest in what her family did?   
  
Cedric shook his head.   
  
“I heard the Slytherins are looking for a new seeker,” he said, changing the subject. “Is Amanda trying out?”   
  
“I don’t know, it sounds like something she would do,” Delilah answered. “Are you going to still be in Quidditch?” Cedric laughed.   
  
“Well after how last year went, I don’t think Professor Sprout would take no for an answer,” he said. She giggled with him. And off they went, talking about Quidditch, classes, their summers, and all the adventures they planned to have that autumn.


	5. Fear Of the Dark

Elena was not a very friendly girl. More to the point, others did not quite know how to talk to her level of maturity and vocabulary and thus never really got close to her. There were a few friends, of course, but all in all, she was not widely known for anything other than her marks.   
  
What most students didn’t know, however, was that each interaction with the fourth year Ravenclaw gave her information that allowed the stranger to be sorted. She did it automatically: quidditch players, ring leaders, soon-to-be prefects, straight A students, strategists, motivators, duelers, influencers…the list went on.   
  
As Elena watched a scene unfold in the halls as she waited for her class, she found herself displeased. There was a first year Ravenclaw girl with flowing blond hair, pale eyes, and a tiny, graceful frame. Luna Lovegood, part of a family that lived near the Burrow. Pureblood, but definitely not part of the elite. Other girls of her house were next to her, conversing loudly enough they obviously didn’t care if Luna heard them or not. Which made Elena glare at them, seeing as the group of first year Ravenclaws were distinctly talking about their quiet, dreamy-eyed housemate.   
  
Apparently she was odd. Weird. Abnormal. She must have been very strange, because all Ravenclaws had their quirks. If these girls were bullying her because of something strange—   
  
Class started. Elena sighed. She would have to watch the girl more closely.

* * *

 

  
Audrey had to admit she was stressed even though it was only the first day back to class. She was exiting her Transfiguaration class when a Ravenclaw prefect took her aside and explained Flitwick wished to see her in his office.   
  
Confused and quite aware she was likely going to arrive to Herbology late, Audrey obliged. It wasn’t until her Head of House explained what had happened to Delilah that she realized she wasn’t going to Herbology at all.   
  
Still, her ‘meeting’ with Flitwick was not wasteful. They went over some last revisions of the essay she had written on unicorns throughout the summer, which was both scary and exciting. In just a few weeks, her essay was going to be published.   
  
“This is one of the most organized compositions I’ve had the pleasure of reading, Miss Coppin! Your writing skills are outstanding for someone at your level of education,” Professor Flitwick told her when they’d finished. A smile snuck onto Audrey’s face, refusing to go away no matter how hard she tried to hide it.   
  
“Thank you, sir,” she said.   
  
“I know it’s quite soon to be thinking about careers, but have you ever thought of writing for a newspaper or, say, your own works?” her Head of House asked. Audrey shook her head. In all honesty, she didn’t have a clue what she wanted to be or what she was good at. Charms was fun, Herbology was cool, but nothing had really jumped out at her. Could this be it?   
  
“Well, I would definitely think on it,” he said with a wink, then dismissed her as the rest of classes got out. So Audrey placed the thoughts of her future aside and went to her next class, still grinning as if it were her birthday.   
  
At lunch, however, life decided to test her good mood. Stringently.   
  
“Audrey!” Ron had exclaimed from the Gryffindor table, then jogged over. “When are we going to meet? Snape just gave us a pile of homework!” Audrey blinked cluelessly, then she remembered. Her stomach dropped with disappointment. She had hoped the youngest male Weasley had forgotten their little deal in the Forbidden Forest all those weeks ago, when he had seen her turn into a horse and she had hastily told him she would do his potions homework this term if he would keep that secret to himself.   
  
“I think we could just meet in the library after classes,” Audrey said.   
  
“Alright, then tonight we can—”   
  
“Not tonight!” she said quickly, garnering a puzzled look from the red head. She couldn’t help it, the full moon was that night. She needed to be there for Jessica.   
  
She sighed. “I have something else planned with Amanda and Delilah. Just—tomorrow, okay? Snape won’t have anything due until the day after tomorrow anyway.” Ron reluctantly agreed, and went back to Harry and Hermione.   
  
Audrey stepped over to the Ravenclaw table. She was surprised to see Amanda waiting for her at the blue table near her usual spot. Although her snake sister would always go to their tables when she could, it wasn’t all the time. Usually, she would stay at the Slytherin table when something important was going on. Like trying to keep Jessica from making the other Slytherin’s implode. So Audrey was shocked to see her at the Ravenclaw table, considering that was a full time job.   
  
“I’ve been dealing with questions about Jessica all day,” Amanda told her, as if using legilimency. “Thought I would take a break with Delilah, but she seems preoccupied.”   
  
Audrey heard Delilah’s giggle before she saw the Hufflepuff. Her other triplet sister was sitting at the Hufflepuff table with Cedric, who was making her laugh with a simple story that anyone else would have just talked over.   
  
“He better have apologized,” Amanda grumbled. Audrey sat down next to her sister.   
  
“Why?” she asked as she grabbed a plate and started piling it up.   
  
“Did you see her face when he didn’t show up to breakfast today?” Amanda spat back. “And don’t even say he was busy. It’s the first day of school and those two were inseparable the entirety of last term.” Audrey shrugged. It wasn’t really her place to judge. She hardly knew Cedric, having only met him once with Amanda one day when he dropped Delilah off for class. It was an awkward encounter, and not a very long one at that.   
  
“At least she’s alright. I can’t imagine passing out in class in front of everyone,” Audrey said. She shuddered at the thought of everyone wondering what she had done wrong, of judging the fact she had been weak enough to pass out. Even if it wasn’t really the reason or her fault…it was embarrassing.   
  
“Did Flitwick get you out of class in time?” Amanda asked. Audrey nodded as she chewed on some bacon.   
  
“Got me out of class to ‘discuss things’ according to the prefect. It wasn’t exactly a lie, we went over the essay. What about you, did Snape get you out of class?” Audrey asked. Amanda shrugged.   
  
“Snape told me what was going on and just let me ditch class, so I played with Salazar,” Amanda explained. Audrey nodded, though she had no idea how one would play with a glass snake.   
  
“Ugh I am so ready to go into the Forbidden Forest tonight,” Amanda sighed, leaning back into her chair.   
  
“Stressed out already?” Audrey asked casually.   
  
“Jessica is ruining everything. The Slytherins hate her, and she hates them so she breaks every rule we have. Then they expect  _ me  _ to fix it. As if I have any say over that little brat! She would sooner end her friendship with Fred and George than listen to me.” Amanda slumped and shoved the remaining food on her plate around with her fork. Audrey found it amusing, and she fought back a smile. Amanda would never forgive her if she caught her.   
  
“Did you get the letters from the headmaster?” Audrey asked. Amanda nodded.   
  
“For whatever reason I didn’t see Delilah get one,” Amanda said. Then she shrugged, as if decided . “Nothing really changed though, did it? Aside from going into Forbidden Forest?”   
  
Audrey slowly tensed.   
  
“Yeah,” she said softly. Amanda didn’t notice her change in mood. She just went on explaining how awesome the forest would be. Audrey knew she shouldn’t have been scared, but she couldn’t help it. She had nearly died in that forest. And the things she’d seen there…she wasn’t certain it was as safe as the headmaster seemed to think it was.   
  
It worried her for the rest of the day. She tried to let it go, but that’s all she could think about, and the fear grew steadily as she was walked toward the back entrance of the castle by Professor McGonagall.   
  
A cool breeze greeted Audrey as she stepped outside. It was dark, but not time yet. She glanced around for her sisters, finding Amanda, Jessica, Delilah, and what looked like Snape further out toward the forest. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but Amanda looked very displeased as Delilah waved at her.   
  
“Nice of you to finally show up,” Amanda muttered sourly.   
  
“It isn’t my fault the Ravenclaw common room is in a tower,” Audrey said back.   
  
“As I am sure you have been told, the headmaster has deemed it safe for you to spend the full moons in the forest. But I must warn you: there are dangers under those trees. Stay vigilant and do not venture too deep. Each full moon you will meet each other here, and each morning after a teacher will be here to take you back to your dormitories. If you are not here, we must assume that there is something wrong. If something is indeed wrong, send sparks. Are there any questions?” They all looked at each other and shook their heads. McGonagall gave a gesture for them to go.   
  
Like the pack they were, they darted off. Delilah and Jessica shoved at each other. Amanda followed, grinning despite her previous bad mood. Audrey jogged behind, looking apprehensively at the trees. Was it truly safe? Did the professors make it safe for them, or were they just hoping that nothing from the year before still roamed behind the treeline?   
  
Audrey didn’t have much time to hesitate. Jessica stumbled just once, and started to transform. It took a bit shorter than normal, but in just a few short moments, she was in full wolf form, shaking out her coat. Delilah bounded up beside her, rubbing against her like a cat.   
  
“Assuming we’re hunting today,” Amanda spoke, “I’m gonna need to find a nice rock to hide under.” Audrey nodded, understanding. With a soft sigh, she focused within herself, willing the change. It was soft and fleeting. Moments later, when she opened her eyes, she found herself on four dark grey legs.   
  
Amanda coughed pointedly. Audrey snorted and knelt, allowing Amanda to get on. Unlike usual, there wasn’t a strain. It was pretty easy. ‘I must be growing stronger in this form,’ she thought. ‘Bigger.’   
  
And just like that, the two wolves shot through the treeline, howling. Audrey was caught between the fear of the shadows and the exhilaration of the hunt. The latter got the better of her, and she jumped in.   
  
It was a rush. Bushes, undergrowth, trees, the pounding her hooves made against the ground—her eyes barely had time to adjust to the dim light beneath the trees. She kept pace with the wolves, following their howls, but then—   
  
She leaped to the side, unseating Amanda easily. She herself stumbled, steadying herself only to turn toward whatever had startled her. But it was gone, and she was left to stand there and breathe harshly like an idiot.   
  
“What in Merlin’s name, Audrey?” Amanda hissed sharply, brushing herself off. Remembering she’d thrown her sister, Audrey shifted in an instant.   
  
“I’m sorry, are you alright?” Audrey asked, looking her over. She was standing and using her arms pretty well to brush herself off. Other than her vanity, Audrey was sure she didn’t hurt anything.   
  
“What did you spook for? I didn’t hear a thing!” Amanda asked sharply.   
  
“I’m sorry, I don’t know, I thought I saw something and I just…freaked out,” Audrey said. It sounded more stupid the longer she thought about it.   
  
“Well pull yourself together. We can’t lose to those mutts, especially not after what that brat put me through over dinner,” Amanda hissed. Audrey nodded, glancing around to make sure she had just enough room to shift.   
  
The shadows moved again and she swung around Amanda, hear heart bouncing fearfully once again.   
  
“Okay I know that was just a bird this time,” Amanda hissed. “What has gotten into you?”   
  
“I don’t know!” Audrey shouted. She sat down on a rock. Her heart was still beating rather wildly and her head was spinning. She hadn’t realized the events of last term still affected her this badly. “I just—being back here after what happened—I feel like one of those things is going to come back at me.”   
  
“You were deep in the forest, Audrey, those things would never come this close to Hogwarts,” Amanda tried to tell her.   
  
“Are you sure about that? What if the creatures are all closer now that they know humans exist nearer to the castle? And what if they are attracted to me? That now that I’m back they can just scent me out or something like—”   
  
“Audrey,” Amanda interrupted. She sat down, grabbed Audrey’s shoulders, and looked the Ravenclaw straight in the eyes. “You’re overreacting. The professors would never let us in here if there were dementors or salamanders or whatever in Merlin’s name you found here last term roaming about. And besides, they’re watching, remember? If something is wrong, we can send up sparks, and if that doesn’t work, Delilah or Jessica or I can go get help. You aren’t alone.” Audrey nodded. That made sense. She had been completely alone last time. This time, she had her sisters. An undefeatable werewolf, a loyal to the death Hufflepuff, and a venomous snake. And teachers.   
  
“And besides,” Amanda went on, releasing her. “Don’t you have that stupid coin with you? The one that saved you last time?” Audrey nodded. She had forgotten about that little trinket, the magical coin necklace that Elena had discovered had protection charms that had helped her when she was attacked.   
  
“Are you better now?” Amanda asked. Audrey nodded again. Her heart and breathing were calming, ebbing and flowing like usual. “Then let’s get this show on the road. Jessica cannot win today.” Audrey opened her mouth to ask what their little sister had done this time, but then she heard something rushing toward them.   
  
Delilah.   
  
“What is it?” Amanda demanded as the little white wolf shifted and nearly stumbled into them.   
  
“There’s a magical—thing! Jessica nearly ran into it—”   
  
“Is it dangerous?” Amanda asked.   
  
“Er—”   
  
“Well is it or isn’t it?” Amanda demanded.   
  
“Just come and see!” Delilah told her pulling her forward. They jogged off. Audrey followed, her eyes narrowed. What sort of magical thing could be waiting in a Forbidden Forest?   
  
It took them several minutes at the slow, very human pace they went. But then Audrey felt it. A magical buzz in the air, misting it ever so slightly. She searched for what caused it, looking up and down and behind her.   
  
“Audrey, stop!” Delilah shouted, and pulled her shirt just as the Ravenclaw saw the faint line on the dirt in front of her.   
  
“It’s like a…barrier…” Audrey said. “Elena told me about them months ago. Not all of them leave marks, but some require it. Like peaceful barriers, something not meant to cause harm.”   
  
“What do you suppose it does?” Amanda asked. She poked over the line, finding herself unimpressed.   
  
“It keeps out bad magical creatures,” Delilah answered. They both looked at her.   
  
“How do you know that?” Audrey asked. Their Hufflepuff sister pointed behind the boundary line. A spider the size of Fang lay dead, all eight legs in the air.   
  
“AH!”   
  
Amanda stumbled back and leaned against a tree. Audrey took a long step away.   
  
“What in Merlin’s name is that doing here?” Amanda demanded, hiding behind Delilah.   
  
“An acromantula…” Audrey murmured. “It was probably searching for food.”   
  
“No, I meant why do they exist?” Amanda hissed. “Spiders should never get that big. Ever.”   
  
“Huh. The great Amanda Coppin, Parselmouth Queen of Slytherin, scared of spiders,” Audrey taunted, smirking.   
  
“You’re scared too, don’t you even deny it!” Amanda snapped.   
  
“Well yeah, I’m scared of everything,” Audrey said automatically. Yet even as the words left her mouth, she felt better. Calmer. The boundary was a powerful one if it could keep out acromantula spiders. The professors must have put it there for their safety, which meant nothing was likely to get through it. She felt safe for the first time since entering the forest.   
  
There was a growl from behind them. Jessica’s amber eyes met theirs.   
  
“I think she’s getting restless,” Delilah spoke.   
  
“Come on, let’s see how far this goes,” Audrey said. Jessica growled again. Audrey rolled her eyes. “We can hunt on the way if you want to. But we should at least know the size of the territory we’re dealing with.”   
  
“Well, I’ll be about a half mile that way, thank you very much,” Amanda said, turning away from the giant spider. She shuddered and strode on.   
  
Audrey heard a bark, bringing her gaze down to Delilah, who was in her wolf form in a play bow. The Ravenclaw chuckled before taking off to the left, transforming just three paces in. Throughout the night, she looked over her shoulder many times, and she would never say she was relaxed. But she was happy, at least. Sane. And, considering her usual level of fear, that’s all she really hoped for.


	6. The Book That Talks Back

The day after the full moon was always a surprise for Jessica. Was she going to be in pain? Was she going to be so tired she growled at anyone who tried to wake her up? Was she going to sleep at all? She never knew. Remus apparently always needed a day to rest up. He said normal werewolves were all like that, if they were taking the Wolfsbane potion. But, of course, she couldn’t just be  _ normal _ .   
  
Nevertheless, Jessica decided to take the morning classes off and finish what little homework she had left. Problem with that? She was done in just a couple of hours, and she hadn’t needed to spend much attention to it at all. If her classes didn’t get any harder, she shuddered to think how boring her first year at Hogwarts would be.

 

Then she remembered her potions homework. 

 

Interesting fact, Jessica found potions to be the easiest to understand and perform. But she absolutely hated the homework. There was just too much  _ writing _ , and never about something she could actually explain.    
  


By the time the Slytherin werewolf was finished with the essay, she was angry. Two hours of scribbling, scratching, and rewriting, and she knew it wasn’t even up to an A standard. Angrily, she grabbed a book from her bag, a quill, and ink, and scribbled angrily on the first page: **I HATE SEVERUS SNAPE!**  
  
The words faded, sinking into the paper. Jessica blinked, flipping the page. Nothing. When she went back to the original page, she saw a neatly written sentence: **_What did Severus Snape do?_** **  
**  
Jessica narrowed her eyes, looking at which book she had picked up. Ginny’s diary. Well, if it wrote back to her, perhaps it would spill the little girl’s secrets. Or the secrets of the book. Either one was fine for Jessica.  
  
 **What kind of book are you?** she scribbled.  
  
 ** _A book of many secrets_** **,** it said.  
  
 **What about Ginny Weasley’s secret** s? Jessica wrote back.  
  
 ** _I do not know of whom you speak_** **,** it reported. Jessica narrowed her eyes. It was either lying, or the little girl hadn’t even thought of writing in the book yet, which was plausible. She would leave that for another time.  
  
 **How do you work? What are you? Who made you?** Jessica scribbled quickly.  
  
 ** _A person of many valuable questions, I see,_** the book wrote. Below that, more words faded into existence. **_I am a memory of Tom Marvolo Riddle, preserved in this diary._** ** _  
_**  
 **How?** Jessica wrote immediately. **Pensives don’t even record memory. Memories have to be placed into them. Did you find a way to bind memories to objects?** **  
**  
 ** _A good question, one I cannot answer_** , came more words. Jessica frowned, crossing her arms. Stupid book. **_What of you? I have yet to even know your name_** **.** The Slytherin werewolf considered just ignoring the book to ask more questions. But perhaps it was being secretive for a reason, as if the spells that bound it were prohibiting it from sharing that secret. So perhaps if she spoke to it, she would be able to get around those charms, or at least find out how to break them.  
  
 **Jessica Coppin,** she wrote.  
  
 ** _Tell me, Jessica Coppin, how is it a muggleborn has come by my book?_** ** _  
_**  
 **I am not a muggleborn. My mother was a Nott, my father is a muggleborn wizard,** Jessica wrote back.  
  
 ** _A Nott you say? I was close to the Nott family… Do you know of Arianna Arisio?_** Jessica narrowed her eyes. Arisio? Wasn’t that the nickname Theo and Draco always used for Amanda? Was it a last name?  
  
 **Do you mean Arianna Nott? She was my grandmother,** Jessica wrote. There was a pause.  
  
 ** _I did not know she had decided to keep her married name. I am honored to have met you, Jessica Coppin, Arianna was a good friend to me. Although I am curious how she let her offspring marry a muggleborn,_** came more words. Jessica hesitated in her answer. Their grandfather had often complained to Jessica and her sisters about their mother’s tendency for rebellion. He never outright explained what Adrianna had done, but…  
  
 **My mother was rebellious. She was a follower of You-Know Who’s, but only because her mother wanted her to be. She chose to be a spy for Dumbledore, and after the war she married my dad because she wanted to show that purebloods can accept muggleborns.** It wasn’t exactly the truth. This is what Jessica chose to believe, however, because no one wanted to tell her the real story.  
  
 ** _Do you believe this?_** **  
**  
 **Don’t really care,** Jessica scribbled. Then, more carefully, she said, **If you’re a memory, does that mean you remember everything about when you were at Hogwarts? Assuming you went to Hogwarts.** **  
**  
 ** _I went to Hogwarts. I was a Slytherin, a prefect. I had a lot of secrets back then, too,_** spoke Tom Riddle.  
  
 **What secrets?** Jessica wrote, excited.  
  
 ** _I’ll tell you, if you tell me a little of how the world has changed, first. As a memory, I don’t know of anything that happened after this book was created._** Jessica really didn’t want to give the book a history lesson. She still wasn’t sure if she quite believed this memory thing…Perhaps it was a trick! A test, of sorts. The only way to find out what was in the book and how the book worked was if she answered the questions and explained history correctly. That was easy, history had always come easily to Jessica.  
  
 **Well, when did you make the book?** Jessica asked.  
  
 ** _In my sixth year, in 1943,_** it wrote. _‘Well then,’_ Jessica thought, leaning back.  
  
 ** _Is there something wrong?_** asked the book.  
  
 **No, there’s just a lot to tell** , Jessica wrote. She dipped her quill and began, **Let me tell you of a wizard called Voldemort.** **  
**  


* * *

  
The Chamber of Secrets was closed.   
  
Amanda had waited until her third day at Hogwarts to visit Bozhidar, the basilisk, for the first time since last year. She felt awful waiting that long, but homework, the full moon, and Draco’s schemes had kept her away. And when she finally did make it to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, it shuddered and shook, then laid still. Locked.   
  
At first Amanda considered the possibility that one of the teachers had found it. But then it would likely be all over the news, and Dumbledore would have confronted her because he probably knew she was a Slytherin Heir and would probably guess she already knew about the Chamber. But really, she didn’t believe someone else had found and opened it because not a single person could unlock it, save for another Parseltongue, which wasn’t possible. She was the last one left aside from Harry.   
  
“I can’t wait to see the look on Potter’s face,” Draco smirked, interrupting her thoughts. Amanda rolled her eyes as she walked beside him, her sleek new Nimbus 2001 gripped tightly in her hand. Draco had a broom too—they all did. Amanda didn’t quite approve of Draco simply getting on the team because of his father’s ability to buy such nice brooms, but at least now they had a chance. After all, last year Harry’s Nimbus 2000 had far surpassed any other broom within the school, and Seekers in themselves were the most weighted players in the game. Now they were at least a little more even.   
  
“Just don’t do anything stupid, Draco,” Amanda told him, quiet enough to just be heard by him. “If you don’t behave yourself around Harry, I might have to embarrass you again.” Draco’s expression flipped to a scowl.   
  
“I don’t need to listen to you,” he sneered. But she knew he would. He always did.   
  
It was cool on the Quidditch pitch that morning, and she was not surprised when she saw the Gryffindors flying about, beginning their practice. It was how Flint had arranged it: ask for Professor Snape’s permission right when the Gryffindors showed up on the field for the first time. Once again Amanda did not improve, knowing it would only just worsen relations between the houses, but she couldn’t do anything about it without being consequently ostracized for siding with the Gryffindors.   
  
“Flint!” Wood shouted, having just landed on the grass. “This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!”   
  
“Plenty of room for all of us, Wood,” Flint drawled. Amanda gritted her teeth. There was no need to egg them on.   
  
“But I booked the field!” Wood bellowed with anger. “I booked it!”   
  
“Ah,” said Flint. “But I’ve got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. ‘I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker and Chaser.”   
  
“You’ve got new players?” said Wood. “Where?”   
  
Draco strutted to the front, Amanda beside him. She stared straight at Harry, who looked fiercely at Draco with all the intensity his green eyes could give.   
  
“Are those Two Thousand and Ones?” Angelica gasped, staring at the sleek, brand new brooms in the hands of each Slytherin.   
  
“A generous gift from Draco’s father,” Flint sneered. “Very latest model. Only came out last month. I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps, sweeps the board with them.” The Gryffindors were silent. Harry was staring at Amanda now. It wasn’t with complete hate, but there were a million questions in his eyes. Amanda prayed he would keep quiet.   
  
“Oh look, a field invasion,” sighed Flint. Amanda glanced behind her to see Ron and Hermione crossing the field to figure out what was going on. Now there was sure to be trouble.   
  
“What’s happening?” Ron asked Harry. “Why aren’t you playing? And what are  _ they  _ doing here?” Amanda glared at him.

 

“Got a problem, Weasley?” Amanda hissed.

 

“Yeah,  why are you stopping the Gryffindor team from playing?” Ron spat. 

  
“Unlike Gryffindor, Slytherin actually plans to  _ train  _ their members rather than rely on our raw talent. How badly did you lose last year when Harry was in the Hospital Wing?” Amanda spat coldly.   
  
“Those brooms certainly don’t look like you plan to train to win,” Hermione defended sharply. “And at least no one on the Gryffindor team had to  _ buy  _ their way in.”   
  
“No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood,” Draco spat. Amanda’s poison green eyes flared. She spun around and shoved him into the ground without a single thought. There were several shouts, a bang—   
  
When Amanda glanced around, she saw Ron on the ground, the Gryffindors crowding him. Hermione fussed, pulling Ron to his knees, and then he puked, slugs pouring from his mouth. Amanda looked away, swallowing the bile in her throat.   
  
The Slytherins around her were laughing cruelly. Pointing, leaning on their brooms for support. Draco was on all fours, barely able to breathe through his laughter as Harry and Hermione got Ron to his feet and pulled him toward Hagrid’s hut.   
  
“I don’t think that could have gone any better!” Draco laughed. Amanda glared at him so hard his smile disappeared. Amanda clenched her fists, threw her broom to the ground, and stalked back toward the castle, ignoring the gazes glued to her back.   
  
When she was out of the Quidditch Pitch and out of sight, she transformed and slithered through the grass toward Hagrid’s hut. A boiling cauldron of anger brewed within her. Hating Muggleborns was one thing, but calling them such a name in open company? The others were just as much at fault for laughing with Draco.  Just how low would the Slytherins go before they realized they were only hurting themselves?   
  
Amanda transformed once she was at the front door. She rose her hand and hesitated. How was she going to explain this one? With a calming sigh, she knocked twice. The house shook with Hagrid’s heavy steps. When he opened the door, she fought the urge to avert her eyes.   
  
“Is Ron alright?” she asked. There must have been something about her tone that expressed her sincerity, because Hagrid moved out of the way to let her in.   
  
She walked in carefully, looking first to the bucket in Ron’s hands and the green shade to his face. It disgusted her, but she forced herself to look at it. She called herself the face of Slytherin, and she had to act on that, which meant fixing the messes her house made.   
  
“I’m sorry, Ron,” she said. Anyone who met her knew ‘sorry’ was the hardest words for her to say, but she forced them out of her mouth. Then she switched her gaze to Hermione, who seemed to fidget under her gaze. “You too, Hermione. It was never meant to go that far, and I never expected Draco to sink to that level.”   
  
“There wasn’t anything you could do,” Harry told her reassuringly. Amanda appreciated it, but she didn’t break her gaze from Hermione. The bright Gryffindor witch nodded.   
  
“It’s alright. I suppose you can’t always know what Malfoy’s going to do,” she said, a forgiving smile on her face.   
  
“It wasn’t just him,” Amanda hissed. “Not even Flint yelled at him. They just laughed.”   
  
“Isn’t that normal? Don’t you all just call muggleborns that behind their backs?” Ron asked. It wasn’t cruel, just matter-of-fact.   
  
“We do not!” Amanda exclaimed as Ron belched more slugs up. It was hard to stay mad at him when he looked as bad as he did. “Among our society, saying that word would be as disrespectful as chewing with your mouth wide open, or cursing. If any of their parents were there today, they would have been scolded. Harshly.”   
  
“What has gotten them to use such a cruel word, then?” Hermione asked. Amanda sighed.   
  
“Their parents aren’t here to reprimand them. But it’s the phoenix or the fire, Hermione. Did the Slytherin students start using that word because of the stigmatism placed on them based on the deeds of other Slytherins? Or was that stigmatism placed on them because of the evil acts toward Muggleborns, such as using that word? Either way, the cycle needs to stop somewhere. It is getting ridiculous.”   
  
“And you think you’re the one to do it, then?” Ron asked.   
  
“As the last known Slytherin Heir, yes,” Amanda told him simply. Ron seemed’s eyes widened, and Hermione looked a bit shocked at that admission. Amanda scoffed, “Oh, don’t look so surprised, I’m sure the both of you figured it out the moment you learned I could speak Parseltongue.”

 

“Does being the Slytherin Heir really mean that much to your house?” Harry asked. Amanda shrugged.

 

“It does with their parents, and it has so far. Reprimanding them still won’t be easy seeing as I’m younger than everyone on the team, but I will make sure they get what they deserve.” She looked straight at Hermione. “I promise.”   
  
“How?” Harry asked. Amanda grinned.   
  
“Hitting them where it hurts,” she said. The plan forming in her head was a risky one, but she needed to try before the whole of Slytherin would end up thrown into Azkaban, never to return.   
  
She said her quick goodbye after that, and left Hagrid’s hut. It was a long walk back to the castle as she continuously went over her plan in her head. Moments later, Delilah popped up out of nowhere with Audrey close behind, and the three of them spent the whole afternoon together outside, recounting what they had heard and seen about the events that morning.   
  
Night came far faster than Amanda would have liked. She sat in the common room, studying as more and more students returned from their Saturday outings, chattering amongst themselves. She saw Draco arrive, an eager set of followers trailing him.   
  
“…slugs, everywhere!” Draco sniggered as he walked in, gesturing wide. Flint chuckled from his spot on a table with his own friends. “I guess we know how to win the Quidditch games now. Just mention that word, and they’ll all be tripping over themselves while I steal the snitch from right underneath their noses!” Several around the room laughed, sneering, encouraging the idiot.   
  
It was now or never.   
  
“Well I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, Draco,” Amanda sighed, standing and turning in dramatic fashion to face him with a sharp glare in her eyes. His smile twisted into a scowl in an instant.   
  
“What? Do you have a problem, giving those golden Gryffindors what they deserve?” Draco sneered.   
  
“And why do they deserve it?” Amanda asked. That got everyone’s attention.   
  
“They’re blood traitors.”   
  
“Full of muggleborns and half bloods.”   
  
“The teachers are  _ always  _ giving them more points than us.”   
  
“They get away with everything!”   
  


“Why do you think that is?” Amanda hissed. “I saw you, Draco. You were bullying that Ravenclaw first year in full view of the whole hall. And Daphne, I saw you attack Hannah Abbott on our way to Transfiguration. Even Flint, our Quidditch Captain, was laughing at the Gryffindors this morning. A rivalry is one thing, but bullying? Unforgivable.”   
  
“Just because you’ve decided to play nice with Potter and his little friends doesn’t mean we have to,” sneered Flint. Amanda tensed, glaring at him. “What? We all saw you last term, shaking his hand.”   
  
“I was making a pact with a powerful friend,” Amanda hissed. “Or have you forgotten that he is the Heir of the Potter House? That he has land, money, and a seat on the Wizengamot when he is of age? Not to mention the most famous wizard aside from maybe Dumbledore. I talked to him last semester. He is oblivious, but intelligent. A good ally, should I need one. And isn’t that what Slytherin is about?”   
  
“We don’t make friends with blood traitors!” hissed an older student.   
  
“ _ And so you want us to make enemies _ ?” Amanda hissed in parseltongue, glaring at the girl. Salazar translated it from his spot on the table. “We have become cruel bullies to the other three houses. They fear us, hate us, they band together to get back at us. They have become our enemies, and enemies cannot be used. Don’t you see? We are the house of ambition! They shouldn’t be saying we are going to be the next Dark Lords, they should be saying we are going to become the next Ministers of Magic. Heads of Wizengamot. Revolutionaries. Leaders! But how do we become these things if all we make are enemies?”   
  
Amanda took a breath.   
  
“You don’t have to make friends with them. You don’t even have to talk with them. Just don’t throw away a potential ally because you feel like terrorizing someone.”   
  
There was a silence. It wasn’t the applause she had been hoping for, but as she looked at the crowd, she saw their faces twisted into thought. That’s all she had really wanted: for them to consider it. They weren’t going to change overnight, after all.   
  
“ _ Come…come to me… _ ”   
  
Amanda gasped as she heard the voice—Bozhidar’s voice—echoed through Salazar’s translating ability.   
  
“ _ Let me rip you…Let me tear you…Let me kill you… _ ”   
  
The whole of Slytherin was on their feet. Those closest to her backed away. Amanda knew she couldn’t just stand there, awestruck. She needed to cover this up quickly and find out what in Merlin’s name was going on.   
  
“Who was that?” demanded another student, her voice shaking. Amanda smirked.   
  
“Well, do any of you remember the story of the monster kept in the Chamber of Secrets?” Amanda asked. Draco and Flint’s eyes widened.    
  
“I called him over earlier, you see. I didn’t expect him to arrive so soon,” she said, hoping that would cover up her shock from earlier, “but I suppose now is better than never.”   
  
“Is that a threat, Arisio?” Flint snapped, though he too looked ready to run to his dormitory.   
  
“Just a reminder,” Amanda hissed. “So the next time one of you decides to disgrace the name of Slytherin, you remember that I am the last remaining Heir, and I take the responsibility of revitalizing the House to its former glory  _ very  _ seriously.” Flint gave a menacing, animalistic growl and took a step forward. He fell forward, his legs stuck together. Draco wobbled and did the same, falling on top of Goyle with a girlish squeal.   
  
The crowd around her laughed. Amanda continued smirking. The two Slytherins tried to fix their legs, but they just squirmed on the floor without any help.   
  
Amanda turned toward her dormitory, her work done. After all, there was only one way to truly punish a Slytherin, and that was publically. If there was anything they valued more than their life, it was their reputations.   
  
When she made it to her dormitory, she closed the door, happy to see no one else had decided to call it a day.   
  
“What was that?” she breathed to herself as she collapsed into her bed. Bozhidar had been released. But by who? And why? Nothing good, it sounded like…but who else could have done it? None of her sisters spoke parseltongue. None of them were Slytherin Heirs. Harry was a parselmouth, but he wouldn’t have made Bozhidar do that. And what could the suspect hope to accomplish? Was he trying to revive another day, would he target muggleborns? Blood traitors? Or was he just a serial killer looking for a thrill?   
  
Amanda closed her eyes, pushing those thoughts away. At that moment, she could only allow herself to focus on one thing: There was another Slytherin Heir at the school, and unlike Harry, he was not going to be easy or fun to deal with.

* * *

Amanda woke and early the next morning. She went to the Great Hall and waited. Gryffindor after Gryffindor made their way to their table, but not the one she wanted. So she waited some more.

  
Finally, she saw him. Harry Potter, flanked by Ron and Hermione, looking very perplexed. Just moments after he stepped into the hall, his fierce green eyes met hers. They stared at each other just a second.

  
Amanda got up and walked outside into another corridor, walking straight until she found an open, empty classroom. Then she slipped inside and, yes, waited some more.   
  
“Come to ask me if I set Bozhidar loose last night?” Amanda asked as Harry stepped in.   
  
“Did you?” he asked. She tried reading his firm expression, but the only thing she could find was an undying determination to find out the truth. She sighed.   
  
“No. I wish I could say I did, just to scare Draco, but…” she trailed off. She looked at him. “And I’m guessing you didn’t visit him last night either?” Harry shook his head.   
  
“I was serving detention, ask Lockhart. He didn’t hear anything,” Harry explained.   
  
“Normal wizards and witches usually can’t even hear the hissing, part of what makes a basilisk so stealthy. But last night, I was in the Slytherin common room, and Salazar translated it for everyone, using the same voice just in English.” Harry looked rather surprised about that.   
  
“What did they say?” he asked.   
  
“I made it seem purposeful, so they don’t suspect anything,” Amanda said dismissively. “But that doesn’t mean that was the last of it. If there is another Slytherin Heir in the school, then they might be trying to take this even further, just like last time…”   
  
“Last time?” Harry asked. Amanda looked at him. It was hard to remember someone like him was still clueless to the many things pureblood wizards knew by heart.   
  
“Several decades ago, there was another Slytherin Heir,” Amanda explained. “He or she opened the Chamber of Secrets and ordered Bozhidar to attack muggleborns. Many of them were just Petrified and revived, but…but one was killed.” Harry’s eyes widened.   
  
“Bozhidar has…killed before?” Harry asked. Then something else dawned on him. “That other Slytherin Heir, was that your grandmother? Or mother?”   
  
“No, my grandmother was too old to be at Hogwarts at the time and my mother hadn’t been born yet,” Amanda said. She had gone through that many times. She had a feeling of who it was, but she didn’t want to tell that to Harry. It was a dead end anyway to their immediate problem.   
  
“What about your aunts and uncles?” Harry asked.   
  
“The Arisio line doesn’t work like that, Harry. All of our family magic passes down to one female Heir and one female Heir only,” Amanda explained. “It’s why none of my sisters can use parseltongue, or Theo. We’re cousins, remember?”   
  
“Then we should tell Dumbledore,” Harry declared.   
  
“Is that your answer for everything?” Amanda sighed.   
  
“If Bozhidar is being controlled by someone who wants to kill then he has to know! Maybe he can help,” Harry pointed out. Amanda clenched her teeth. It made sense. It really did. But she couldn’t.   
  
“We can’t,” Amanda said. “As soon as Dumbledore knows what’s lurking in his castle, he’ll go looking for him, and kill him. Basilisks are a level five creature on the danger list, they are a ‘kill on sight’ creature.”   
  
“Dumbledore doesn’t need to know where the Chamber is—”   
  
“But once he knows that we know, he’ll ask,” Amanda said. “How else would he find the other Slytherin Heir? And besides, the Chamber of Secrets has been a mystery for so long, the Ministry will get involved, and then Bozhidar really doesn’t stand a chance.” She looked down. She tried really hard not to imagine the Ministry forcing the Chamber open, barging down there and destroying Bozhidar like she had read in so many cases of unruly dragons.   
  
“And you can’t just…talk to Bozhidar?” Harry asked. Amanda shook her head.   
  
“The Chamber is closed. It won’t open for me,” Amanda explained. Harry looked deflated, as if an idea was just struck down. Then he gathered himself and his determination once more.   
  
“Then let’s find out who the other Slytherin Heir is,” he said. “We can go by the Chamber entrance as often as we can, and see if any suspicious people are around. And maybe you can ask some of your Slytherin friends. Even if they aren’t the Slytherin Heir they might know something.” Amanda stared at him. How could he be so certain, so determined? Even when it was like looking for a needle in a very, very big haystack.   
  
She nodded.   
  
“That sounds like a good plan,” she said. She doubted most modern Slytherins would let their status as a Slytherin Heir go unannounced, but an older, wiser family just might go to great lengths to keep the knowledge of an Heir secret.   
  
“Thank you, Harry,” Amanda said sincerely.  He gave her an awkward look.   
  
“Er, your welcome,” he said, fidgeting. “Well, Hermione and Ron are waiting for me, so…” He inched toward the door, turning.   
  
“Harry?” she asked. He turned to her. “Can we keep this whole thing between us for now? The less people who know about Bozhidar and the Chamber…the better.” Harry took a minute, obviously knowing how hard it would be to keep something so major from his friends. Then he smiled.   
  
“Alright,” he said. Then he turned and left, leaving her alone. Amanda sighed, leaning against the wall. She didn’t know what was going to happen, but she needed to at least portray Harry’s attitude. The false Slytherin Heir needed to be found, and sitting around moping about it was not going to help.   
  
Time to play detective.

 


	7. Well That's One Future Disaster Averted

Elena watched Luna Lovegood as she worked on her homework, none of which made sense to anyone who didn’t take the time to read its meaning rather than just its words. Over the last several days, Elena had gotten to know the Lovegood. Considering she was pureblood, Elena was surprised she had never heard of the girl, but the more she got to know the first year, the more she understood why. The pureblood wizards and witches Elena was surrounded by didn’t mention her family because they were the outcasts, pushed far away due to their lack of conventionally accepted behaviors and views.   
  
But Elena had discovered differently.   
  
If Luna’s father was anything like she was, they weren’t dumb. In fact, based on Luna’s vast knowledge of important issues and topics, no matter if half of them were so out-of-the-box normal wizards would hardly touch them, Elena guessed the Lovegoods were actually rather intelligent. They just thought of things differently. In circles, or sometimes tangles, rather than the straight line people were used to. This lead to bullying from all sides, and not just at school.   
  
So, to protect the girl of whom Elena had grown fond, she came up with a plan.   
  
“Audrey, come here!” she called over to her younger sister, who had a lot of parchment on her lap along with several homework assignments. Audrey sighed with frustration and carefully set it all aside. Elena just watched, noting two sets of Potions homework as usual for Audrey this term. Half of her wanted to ask. Half of her knew it wouldn’t solve anything.   
  
“Yes?” Audrey asked, her eyes telling Elena she was thinking of many other things than being called by her.   
  
“This is Luna Lovegood,” Elena introduced her. The girl looked up, blinking in slight confusion. Then she smiled.   
  
“Hello. Did you happen to see any Crumple-Horned Snorkack when you went to the Forbidden Forest last year?” Luna asked, tilting her head. Audrey just stared. Elena smiled, amused at the mix of both disgust, fear, and confusion on her younger sister’s face.   
  
The triplet looked back to Elena, obviously thinking better of replying.   
  
“She has been having a hard time settling in,” Elena explained. She gave a sharp, expectant look at Audrey. “I was thinking maybe you could help her?”   
  
Audrey’s jaw dropped.   
  
It was a better reaction than Elena had been thinking. After all, there was one thing Audrey was always concerned with: what others thought of her. Giving her the responsibility of the strangest girl in school was not going to go over well. Less apparent in her fearful sister was her aversion to ‘off’ people, or those who simply did not conform. Elena hoped to fix that. 

  
“But—but—” Audrey managed to stammer after a few seconds.   
  
“After being chosen by Flitwick for that essay, Audrey, I highly doubt it would do you any good to deny helping a Ravenclaw in need like Luna,” Elena spoke, though it was much more than that. A lot of people in Ravenclaw had their eye on Audrey since seeing her published essay. Seeing her with Luna would make them think twice about bullying her.   
  
Audrey sighed.   
  
“Fine,” she said miserably.   
  
“Great! I’ll leave you two together, then,” Elena said. Audrey’s shoulders fell.  _ ‘Don’t worry little sister, this will help in the long run,’ _ she thought. It was certainly amusing to watch her discomfort in the meantime.   
  
Elena turned to stroll away, off to deal with another problem.   
  
Bozhidar.   
  
Elena had heard the threatening parseltongue. It scared her, but at the same time it transfixed her. She knew it wasn’t Amanda or Harry. They had been basically patrolling the hallway next to the Chamber ever since it happened. So was there another Heir in the school? Unlikely. Elena had studied all the ancient lineages, and though records were not exactly consistent among the time of Salazar Slytherin, all of the known lines aside from the Arisio line were dead. Unless one of the squibbed lines that turned muggle…but that wouldn’t be possible, would it? Could a muggle with wizarding lineage have parseltongue but not wizarding powers, thus passing it down through generations?   
  
Elena sighed. There wasn’t much she could do to find out. It would be rather strange to ask for records like that without a serious explanation, and she still had yet to decide on one.   
  
While Elena worked on that problem, she also worked on getting into the Chamber itself. Amanda, after all, only had limited knowledge. After screaming “open” enough times, Elena imagined her sister had given up and decided to just look for the Slytherin Heir. Elena, however, knew there must be a way around the magic that refused to let anyone enter. The problem was finding out how.   
  
She rounded the corridor to the unused bathroom casually. Both Amanda and Harry were in Potions and would not be searching the area for any suspected Slytherin Heirs, so she knew she was safe.   
  
She swiftly made it into the bathroom, looking through the stalls. Moaning Myrtle was nowhere to be found. Finally. It was a difficult task, to find an area of time where Moaning Myrtle was not in the bathroom, and where Harry and Amanda were in class. It was most of the reason she could not experiment on the entrance as often as she would have liked.   
  
Elena set down her back and took out a carving tool. After all, spellwork was worthless against a door with the ancient magic the Chamber had upon it. Yet Runes were a purerer magic, capable of bypassing much of the intricate technicalities of regular spells. So she went looking for the most powerful runes she thought she could master.   
  
At that moment, she carved a rune into the wood of the mirror and waited. Just as she lifted her carving tool from the last stroke, the rune sizzled and sparked. Then it faded, as if it hadn’t ever been carved at all.   
  
Elena frowned. Was it so protected that runes wouldn’t even work? She tested this by trying other runes, some stronger than the last, some weaker and meaningless to what she was trying to do. All vanished immediately after she finished.   
  
Well.   
  
It made sense when she thought about it. Salazar Slytherin only wanted Slytherin Heirs to enter. He would have put up a strong anti-rune spell, against any and all runes. Elena was impressed and frustrated at the same time. Another possibility down the drain.   
  
‘Well,’ she thought as she heard the releasing of students from their classroom prisons. ‘There’s always tomorrow.’ She gathered up her things and left the bathroom, joining the sea of students in the hallway.

* * *

It was a rather long week, but Elena still had no luck with the Chamber of Secrets. A part of her was not worried, reasoning that the basilisk had not been heard for at least three weeks. Yet another part of her knew something dark was at play. Something that which brought a dead power back to life with the malicious intent to kill.   
  
So, Elena busied herself in other comings and goings. Amanda and Harry still searched restlessly. According to Elena’s contacts in Slytherin, Amanda had been asking peculiar questions about the Slytherin bloodline. Those she knew in Gryffindor said Harry was snooping around again, though no one knew why. But Elena knew. If only her sister and her friend knew how to be less conspicuous.   
  
There was other rumors, too. Ones about Diggory being distant and troubled. Elena saw it for herself every morning in the Great Hall when he talked to Delilah. Her wolf sister was oblivious, of course, going on like normal. But Elena could see it. She could see the way he avoided her gaze as if thinking a thought he would rather not. How, in Elena’s Transfiguration class, he stared vacantly at Professor McGonagall, once not even noticing the professor had asked a question. It was not like him, and it was certainly not something Elena could let go on any longer, not when her younger sister was most likely involved.   
  
During Lunch, Elena intercepted Diggory before he reached Delilah’s class by simply stepping in front of him. He stopped, his eyes narrowed.   
  
“Elena? Can I, er, help you?” he asked. Elena paused. She wasn’t normally so forthcoming, but  after hours of thought she had put in the night before, she had decided confronting Diggory was the best way to get answers out of him. 

  
“Are you feeling alright?” Elena asked. Diggory was surprised, then awkward, shifting nervously in his spot.   
  
“Er, yeah, I suppose. I was just going to meet Delilah—”   
  
“Why have you been different with Delilah?” Elena asked. “Something has been bothering you about her.” A sudden thought occurred to her: had Diggory figured out Delilah’s secret?   
  
“No, not about her,” Diggory said quickly. “It’s…nothing, really, you shouldn’t really be concerned—”   
  
“Delilah is my sister, and she deserves your best,” Elena said simply. Diggory finally looked straight into her eyes. Something changed, as if her words awoke some honor within him. He sighed.   
  
“Do you know what their father does in the Ministry?” Diggory asked. Elena blinked. Whatever she had been expecting, that was not it.   
  
“He doesn’t do anything in the Ministry,” Elena spoke. “He works alone on experiments, spells—anything really. At least that’s what I was told.”   
  
“What about during the war?” Diggory pressed. Elena swallowed.   
  
“In the beginning he stayed out of it. He was captured near the end, though,” she said. “Imprisoned in some dungeon so the Dark Lord could use his smarts, from what I’ve been told.”   
  
“And that’s when he met your mother?”   
  
Elena sighed.   
  
“I don’t see how this has anything to do with—”   
  
“My dad said he was a spy,” Diggory interrupted. “And not a good one. Dad has mentioned multiple times that he possibly went beyond the call of duty—”    
  
“And this affects Delilah because…?” Elena interrupted, ignoring her shock. She had always known her sisters’ father wasn’t the Dad of the Year, but the kind of acts Diggory was alluding to brought it to a whole new level, if it was true.   
  
“Dad told me he only married your mother for power and fame, and to further some—plan of his,” Diggory said. “He kept going on about how Delilah might be the result of that, that she might just be acting this nice to get to me. I know that isn’t true,” he said quickly, at Elena’s bristling stance, “but what if her dad is using her? What if he does have some evil plan in the making?”   
  
Elena thought.   
  
And thought.   
  
It wasn’t that hard to imagine, really. There had to be a reason he kept in contact with his daughters, no matter how little it was. Elena also knew Audrey’s coin did not have that much magic on it just because the old man cared.   
  
“My mother married their father so everyone would believe that she was a spy instead of a true Death Eater,” Elena explained. “Their father married her for the resources. His research has always been his greatest priority. If he does have some plan for my sisters, it likely won’t be for several years, and it likely won’t include you.”   
  
“It isn’t about me!” Diggory exclaimed, stepping forward. “This is about Delilah, and what might happen to her if he decides to take her or manipulate her or hurt her or any other nasty thing he could be doing.” Elena, once again, paused. Diggory’s father must have really been saying awful things if he was so ready to believe Delilah’s father would harm her. But, who knew? Perhaps he was right to believe that.   
  
“What you’ve been doing isn’t helping,” Elena said finally. “If you really think Delilah might someday be in danger, you should be focusing on protecting her, not avoiding her.”   
  
“I just want to know what he could be pla—”   
  
“Alright, this is going to sound really strange from a Ravenclaw, but you don’t  _ have  _ to know,” Elena told him. “Just be with her. That alone will be enough to protect her if you are that thoroughly convinced he plans on using her for some plan.” Diggory tilted his head.   
  
“Why?” he asked.   
  
“Because if there is anything I have learned about Hufflepuffs, it is their undying loyalty to their friends,” Elena answered with an encouraging smile. It took him a moment to process that. Finally he nodded and sighed.   
  
“You’re right. I shouldn’t be doing what I’m doing,” he said finally, straightening himself out. “I should go apologize to her…Thank you, Elena. Now that I think about it, I should have come to you in the first place. You always know what to do.” Elena nodded.   
  
“I wouldn’t mention any specifics about what your dad might have said,” Elena spoke up. “Delilah is strong, but let’s not worry her with ‘could-be’s or ‘maybe’s.” Diggory nodded, smiling.   
  
“You’re right. Thank you again. If there’s anything you need, feel free to ask,” Diggory said, then moved around her down the hall, using the confident stride she had always seen in him.   
  
_ ‘Well, that’s one disaster averted,’ _ Elena sighed, moving the opposite direction. _ ‘Now where’s the next one?’ _


	8. Werewolf Vs. Roosters

**And don’t even get me started about Snape,** Jessica wrote. **He is the absolute worst. Won’t let me do anything creative and hates me just because I’m a werewolf. Just today he gave me another detention today for trying to add a firework to our cooling draughts just to see what it would do.** **  
**  
**_Did you get to try?_** the Diary, whom Jessica now called Tom Riddle, asked.  
  
**No. The firework caught on my robe and Snape caught me before I could throw it in. But that cooling draught was easy enough to replicate. Once Fred and George help me get the rest of the ingredients, I’ll try on my own terms away from any stupid teachers,** Jessica responded.  
  
**_You seem quite adept at Potions_** , the Diary commented.  
**  
****Potions is easy. It is just memorizing recipes and following the rules of alchemy**. Jessica wrote. Then she paused. Should she ask? She needed to know. It could give her a clue as to who made the Diary, and how it was created. **What were you good at when you were in Hogwarts?** **  
**  
****_**Everything, to a point. I was a prodigy, of sorts. Of course, my main focus was Dark Magi** c_, spoke Tom.

 **I’ve never tried Dark Magic. Fred and George have tried to stay clear of it, for their parent’s sake, but I’ve seen some interesting things in the Malfoy’s manor,** Jessica told him.

 **_But you are not opposed?_ ** Tom asked.

 **Nope. Dark Magic is only called that because someone decided what was good and bad. It’s still magic, and it still works for certain situations** , Jessica told him. It was an honest to God answer. She would never admit this to any of her sisters, of course. They didn’t  need to know.

 **_Interesting. Most I meet are against Black Magic and all that it entails. Once again I am grateful to have met someone who understands_ ** , Tom told her. Jessica grinned. Getting into his good graces was going great, and now she knew it was Dark Magic which made the book. It would explain why most detecting charms didn’t work on it. Now to get specifics…

 ** _Did you not say you had to be at a birthday party in a few minutes?_** Tom asked. **_I cannot tell time as a book, but I can understand from experience this conversation has gone on far longer than that._**

Jessica groaned, then scribbled. **I hate it, but you’re right. Talk to you as soon as I can.**

She scooped up the book, threw it in her desk, and locked it magically. Fred and George had also showed her that trick, and despite it being pretty easy to break, she doubted any of these first year idiots knew any unlocking charms.

She got to Ravenclaw tower about fifteen minutes later and decided she hated it and would demand they all meet at the Gryffindor common room the next year. She grew even angrier at when the doorknob asked for a riddle. By the time Audrey had come out to open the door for her, she had her hand in her pocket, ready to try to magic the door open instead.

“That’s why I told you to _knock_ ,” Audrey told her after they were in the Ravenclaw common room.

“Well I tried, and then the knocker talked!” Jessica exclaimed.

“I _had_ been waiting outside for you. You never showed up!” Audrey told her. They had come across a circular table with a small pile of presents on top. Elena, Delilah, and Amanda sat on the comfy bench that wound around the table.

“Did you get a creepy gift from Dad again?” Jessica asked as she sat down.

“Thankfully not,” Audrey said.

“What do you mean? Those presents are actually quite useful,” Amanda pointed out, picking the biggest present from the pile that had her name on it. Delilah selected a smaller, cube shaped one probably because it was three dimensionally symmetrical.

“Speaking of those useful presents,” Jessica spoke up, “What’s this I hear about you scaring the pants off Draco last month and how come I’m only hearing about this now?”

Everyone looked at Amanda, who froze, speechless for once in her life.

“I’m assuming this has something to do with Salazar?” Elena asked.

“What did you do, speak some parseltongue through it?” Audrey asked.

“What? No. I do that all the time,” Amanda said with a dismissive scoff.

“Then what did you do? Because all of Slytherin is talking about it, trying their very hardest not to mention a word to me,” Jessica said, crossing her arms. “Fred and George had to overhear one for me to know.”

Amanda opened her mouth, then shut it.

“It was stupid. The only reason I even did anything was because of what the team did to Ron and Hermione,” Amanda muttered.

“Understandable,” Elena spoke. Audrey narrowed her eyes.

“Wait, the whole slug in the bucket thing? Isn’t that just normal Slytherin behavior?” Audrey asked. Amanda shook her head.

“I was trying to abnormalize it so it doesn’t _become_ normal Slytherin behavior,” Amanda told them all. “So I had Salazar speak in a very menacing voice with some choice, creepy words and convinced everyone I had called the Beast of Slytherin over.”

Audrey went very pale, Delilah chuckled, and Elena smiled. Jessica, however, got a gleam in her eye.

“Did they believe it?” she asked. Amanda shrugged.

“They seemed to,” she spoke. “Most of them already knew I speak parseltongue thanks to my idiot Draco, so I guess they just assumed.”

 _‘I could use that someday,’_ Jessica thought.

“Imagine if you actually were the Slytherin Heir, though?” Delilah said then.

“She would be Queen of the Castle,” Audrey said, shaking her head.

“Definitely would have the favor of most of the Slytherin house,” Elena agreed.

“Except that would make us Slytherin Heirs,” Jessica pointed out. Her sisters were shocked into a moment of silence.

“That would be…” Delilah began.

“Horrible,” Audrey finished. “Could you imagine the attention? Everyone in this room would be asking me if I knew where the Chamber of Secrets was, or how to open it, or what was inside, or--”

“How to speak Parseltongue?” Elena laughed.

“Oh, Merlin, yes!” Audrey groaned.

“Can we open presents now?” Amanda asked.

“Yeah, I need to get back to my homework,” Jessica told them. Amanda laughed, Audrey rolled her eyes, and Elena once again smiled.

“Do you mean plotting your next grand prank?” Audrey asked.

“In all of my years at Hogwarts I have never seen a single student get into so much trouble before Halloween,” Elena told her. Jessica smirked.

“Well what else are you supposed to do in this boring castle?” she asked, leaning back into the bench.

No one answered, just went on to open their presents. With needle like precision as to not rip the paper, in Elena’s case, or in straight lines, as Delilah was doing. Amanda just ripped right through the middle, ignoring Delilah’s look of derision.

And so the day went.

Jessica had nothing to note on the actual party. Her sisters got presents, she ‘oohed’ and ‘awed,’ the House Elves brought up cake per the orders of Professor Flitwick, the four of them embarrassed Audrey in front of the whole of Ravenclaw house by singing ‘Happy Birthday’ as loudly and ridiculously as they could because it was just too easy to do, and then they went their separate ways.

It was normal and boring, but hey, at least she got cake out of the deal.

* * *

 Amanda hoped they would not have to hear the “if something happens during the full moon” speech every single time they were going to venture into the Forest. She had no patience for it, especially on the night of a very good birthday she would much rather be celebrating in the Forest with her sisters. She could tell none of her sisters were paying attention either, particularly Jessica, who looked at the forest longingly.

Finally, however, they were allowed to go to the Forbidden Forest’s edge and wait for the full pull of the moon to hit Jessica. At first everything was normal. Delilah and Audrey were playing their very difficult game of tag in their respective forms as Amanda waited and watched her little sister.

Whom she hated.

Did that little brat have to mention the scene with Salazar earlier in the term? She had managed to lie convincingly, but it was rough. She wasn’t used to doing it on the spot like that; usually the subject of actually being a Slytherin Heir never came up. The four of her sisters all just assumed she spoke Parseltongue because of the transformation ability and was hanging around the high class people with reputation because of how high a status their mom had. And, as long as Jessica didn’t stick her genius, photographic mind in places it didn’t belong, Amanda was hoping to keep it that way.

Finally, her little sister shifted. It was as harrowing as usual, but soon, she shook her pelt, gave a nice long creepy howl, and took off into the woods, followed closely by Delilah and Audrey. Amanda jogged after them, shivering. In a few weeks it might become too cold for her to come out here with them.

Amanda was behind in just a few minutes, but followed the sound of crashing undergrowth anyway. She knew they would come back for her to start the hunt eventually.

She stopped to catch her breath. It was cold enough to see her breath, but at least light enough to see her feet. She decided, after beginning to shiver again, that she would wait for the two wolves and the horse to return for her while sitting on a comfortable enough looking stump. She didn’t have the energy to follow them so fruitlessly.

Then she heard a howl.

Werewolf 101, learning what different howls mean was life-saving knowledge. It took a few years, but after a while, she learned things like several shortened ones usually meant a call, like gathering the pack for a hunt. A longer, singular howl typically meant victory. She had no idea if this was what regular wolves did, but Jessica seemed to follow that code to a T, and Remus did the same.

 

This howl, however, made Amanda tense. It was a sharp victory howl, which usually meant Jessica had killed something. But Delilah, who always instinctively howled with her, was silent. Something was wrong. Had something attacked them, hurting Delilah to the point she couldn’t share the victory?

Amanda contemplated rushing after them, taking a step forward. But that was all she took. She didn’t have the sense of direction that Audrey had, or the ability to smell out the path like her other sisters. She’d likely get lost before being able to help.

Before Amanda could find another solution, she heard crashing from the bushes in front of her. She tensed, ready for some monster to come out of the bushes. She had her wand ready.

But it was Jessica. The werewolf leapt from the darkness, rushing straight past her toward Hogwarts. Amanda turned, perplexed, watching her go. Had something scared her? Was she getting help?

More rustling came and a bloodstained Delilah darted after the werewolf, followed closely by Audrey. The Ravenclaw glanced back at her, stopped, stumbling as she breathed harshly, tiredly. 

“What’s going on?” Amanda demanded. 

“Something’s wrong with Jessica, she attacked Delilah and then took off toward Hogwarts,” Audrey spoke quickly. “Send up red sparks, hurry!” 

Amanda shot her wand to the sky, and sent up the red lights. When she had her wand tucked back in its place, she sighed. Audrey had vanished. Normally, when things went like this, Amanda would give Jessica a poisonous bite, sedating her until dawn. Obviously Audrey forgot about this detail, because otherwise she would have been smart enough to give Amanda a ride.

So Amanda followed the unmistakable trail of crushed undergrowth, shifted leaves, and broken branches and twigs back toward Hogwarts.

As soon as she broke through the tree line, she heard yelling, shouting, and the deafening yelps and growls of a dog fight. Hagrid’s Hut--she had gone to Hagrid’s hut. Amanda sprinted, hoping the half giant hadn’t decided to take a look at the “misunderstood” werewolf that had showed up at his doorstep.

As she got closer, she realized there were small little bodies on the grass, and feathers everywhere. Feathers. Jessica had run all the way back to Hogwarts to go after.. _.chickens_?

Amanda had no time to think about that. She was nearly upon the battle, which looked like a stalemate at best. Delilah and Jessica had broke apart, both snarling at each other with bared teeth that gleamed in the full moon light. Audrey, meanwhile, circled the pair in her horse form, on her toes (figuratively speaking) and ready to interfere if needed.

Amanda assessed the situation. Jessica could run in any direction, so cornering her for the night would not work. It would have to be sedation, but that was also dangerous seeing as Amanda had nowhere to hide if things went wrong. Quickly, she came up with a plan.

In that moment, Audrey glanced in Amanda’s direction. The Slytherin nodded. She knew Audrey understood what she had to do.

“Whenever you’re ready!” she shouted. The Ravenclaw nodded back before returning her focus to their little sister, who was still busying herself with trying to dominate Delilah.

Amanda transformed, falling into the grass easily. She stayed still, waiting for her window of attack. She watched Audrey. The gray horse walked carefully around Delilah, not letting her sight off of Jessica.

Werewolves were not dumb. Jessica’s attention bore onto the Ravenclaw as she inched forward, tense but prepared. Delilah caught on, taking her customary position next to Audrey.

Then they both attacked.

Jessica battled them both ravagely, using her strong jaw as often as she could. Delilah and Audrey took turns surging toward her. Delilah would get into a fight, then break away, allowing Audrey to charge in, giving a forceful rear and a pointed kick. Never hitting its mark, but always pushing the werewolf backwards, toward Amanda.

The black snake tensed, staying as still as she could while keeping an eye on the situation. One misstep could mean being crushed. Missing could mean losing the chance to sedate her.

They got closer and closer. Jessica was dealing some painful blows, but Audrey and Delilah didn’t falter. They continued going at her like a pair of dueling wizards fighting side by side, knowing when the other needed a break, knowing when the other was going to step in.

Finally, Amanda saw Jessica step into the strike zone. She tensed, readying herself for attack--

Jessica turned toward the castle, growling loudly. Amanda crouched back into the grass, seeing a lumos in the distance. The teachers.

Amanda quickly reached back, and struck. Jessica yelped and snapped backwards at her. Delilah, however, went straight on with the plan and charged into her, and it became a cloud of growling, snapping, yelling, and teeth.

 

Amanda slithered a few feet away and waited. She didn’t know if she had injected enough venom. She watched as Jessica kept fighting. At some point Delilah gave a loud yelp and broke away, limping. Audrey was quick to take her place, however, rearing at Jessica and pawing at her.

Jessica’s attacks were slowing and were becoming clumsier by the second. Amanda transformed back into her human form at a crouching position, watching carefully. Finally, Jessica swayed and laid down, watching and growling at Delilah and Audrey, but not getting up. Her sisters circled the werewolf until she rested on her side and fell asleep.

“Amanda? Tha’ you?” came Hagrid’s voice over the group of creatures. She stood and looked up at him.

“Hello, Hagrid,” was all she could manage to say.

“What’s this all abou’?” Hagrid asked. “What’s a werewolf doin’ at ‘Hogwarts?”

“Miss Coppin!” exclaimed Professor McGonagall, who had led them to the forest that day. Professor Flitwick and Dumbledore were not far behind. “Explain!”

“Jessica went full wolf, professor,” said Delilah. She and Audrey were now in their human forms, sitting and breathing hard but looking alright all things considered. Amanda felt herself release a breath she hadn’t known she was holding.

“Full wolf?” asked Professor McGonagall.

“The Wolfsbane occasionally doesn’t work all the way,” Amanda explained. “Or at least that’s what Gran told us. She said it might have something to do with dad’s ability.” Professor McGonagall looked less than pleased with this.

She spun around to the other professors. “Headmaster--”

“I knew of this when I accepted Miss Jessica Coppin,” Dumbledore explained, a gentle smile on his face. “It is a rare occasion, from what I gather.” Professor McGonagall looked back at Amanda. 

“It is,” she reassured the Gryffindor Head Of House. “And usually she doesn’t head straight for something to eat. _Usually_ , Delilah and Audrey can keep her down long enough for me to take her out. This is the most extreme I’ve seen her on the Wolfsbane potion.”

“Professor Dumbledore, sir!” exclaimed Hagrid. He had hobbled on over, looking stricken under the circumstances. “Came out jus’ ter see the werewolf go down. Is everything alrigh’?”

“Indeed it is, Hagrid, just a little accident,” spoke the Headmaster. “I daresay, if this ever happens again, it wouldn’t be a horrible for you to know that Miss Jessica Coppin is the werewolf under the Wolfsbane potion, and her sisters are shapeshifters of a rare sort.” Amanda tensed. She didn’t like Hagrid knowing. He wasn’t the best at keeping secrets. Still, she could see Dumbledore’s point. If something were to go wrong in the forest, it would be handy to have someone like Hagrid to help them.

“Oh. Oh! I’m sorry, sir, I wouldda helped if I’da known,” Hagrid said. Dumbledore gave him a respectful bow of his head.

There was a moment of silence before Amanda asked, “Now what do we do?”

“Well, Miss Coppin, what do you usually do?” Professor Flitwick asked.

“We wait for her to wake up,” Amanda said. “That shouldn’t be until morning, if my injection was correct, although I didn’t give her as nearly as much as I was hoping to.”

“Very well. Hagrid, if you could, please carry Miss Jessica Coppin to the forest. We wouldn’t want to give anyone the chance to see her in this state,” Professor Dumbledore ordered. Amanda heard a groan and turned to see Audrey helping Delilah up. Amanda could smell blood and it was obvious from their stiff movements they were not perfect.

“The three of you should see Madam Pomfrey at once,” Professor McGonagall told them.

“But what about Jessica?” Delilah asked.

“She will be well taken care of,” Dumbledore promised them.

“But--" 

“Can I stay with Jessica?” Amanda interrupted Delilah. “She will be very confused when she wakes up and I’m not hurt at all.” Audrey gave her a weird look. Amanda knew why; it wasn’t a secret Amanda hated her little sister and she was certain the feeling was mutual for Jessica. But Amanda had to know what Jessica remembered.

“I don’t think that would be too much trouble,” Professor Dumbledore said, his smile widening.

“Remember to send sparks if anything goes wrong,” Professor McGonagall told her sharply. She didn’t seem to agree with Dumbledore that letting a twelve year old take care of an obviously dangerous werewolf for the night was a good idea. But she gestured to Amanda’s sisters to come with her, choosing not to voice that opinion.

Audrey gave Amanda one last long, questioning look before following Delilah toward the Professors. She frowned at their limps. They’d been hurt worse back at the forest behind Gran’s house, but that didn’t mean Amanda was alright seeing her sisters battered and bloodied. Her only consolation was that they could be healed in a few minutes.

“Ready, Amanda?” asked Hagrid. Amanda turned to see the half giant cradling Jessica’s wolfish body like a child. Amanda found herself both shocked and appreciative. Most wizards would be carrying the werewolf as far away from them as possible, cringing at her every move. She supposed, despite him being slow, loud, uncanny, and overall not very smart, his undying love and trust for anything dangerous had its bright side.

The two of them strolled down to the forest in darkness. Jessica slept soundly, and the two of them were quiet. It was just the forest and its inhabitants to fill the silence.

“So, you and yer sister’s...yeh can’ be Animagi, can’ you?” Hagrid asked. Amanda blinked, forgetting that was everyone’s normal assumption when they saw their transformations.

“Er, no, it’s a family thing from our father’s side,” Amanda explained.

“And, er, Jessica--”

“When Death Eaters attacked our home, Greyback was among them,” Amanda went on, recognizing the question before it was spoken. “Our dad pays for the Wolfsbane, though, so usually she just runs into the forest with us. This time the Wolfsbane just...didn’t work, I guess. Sorry about your roosters.”

“It’s alrigh’,” Hagrid said truthfully. With a smile, he added, “Yeh know, I always knew there was somethin’ differn’ with yeh.”

 _‘And that’s not the half of it,’_ Amanda thought, the Chamber of Secrets problem popping up in her head again.

Suddenly an idea struck her.

“Hagrid…” she said. She paused as they walked, trying to gather the right words. She wished Audrey was here, her Ravenclaw sister always knew the right words to say. “Hagrid, when Tom Riddle accused you, did he say anything odd?” she asked, remembering how her mother’s diary had expressed her sorrow over how Bozhidar had been so wrongly used and how the gentle half-giant had been framed.

Hagrid stopped.

“How do you know tha’?” he asked, a harsher edge to his voice. Amanda frowned.

“My mom explained it in her diary once,” Amanda explained. “She had apparently been researching the Chamber of Secrets.” Hagrid relaxed a little. He was still on edge. Amanda didn’t blame him, after what he had gone through.

“He jus’ tol’ me it was Aragog’s faul’,” Hagrid brokenly recounted. He sighed. “Tol’ me the girl’s parents would want ter see ‘im dead. Aragog escaped o’ course, then Riddle tol’ Professor Dippi’.” Amanda could almost not even bear to look at Hagrid’s eyes. They were dark and full of sadness. She couldn’t imagine being accused of murder, let alone having her right to use magic taken away because of it. She wanted to say something, so with her question answered, she gathered those two little impossible words.

“I’m sorry,” Amanda said. Hagrid snapped away from his memories, looking at her.

“What for?” he asked.

“My grandmother knew who really did it, but she didn’t stop him from attacking people or you from being accused,” Amanda said. And she meant it. Though her grandmother wasn’t attending Hogwarts at the time, she had known about Bozhidar and that Tom Riddle was an Heir, yet did nothing.

Hagrid was quiet for a moment.

“That wasn’ you, Amanda. Jus’ your grandmother,” Hagrid said finally, a friendly smile on his face. Amanda looked at him as seriously as she could.

“She was family, and Slytherins take family very seriously. So, on behalf of the Arisio family, I’m saying sorry. It isn’t enough, considering all you had to go through because of what she failed to do, but it’s all I can do right now,” Amanda explained. Hagrid was quiet again, but this time there was a spark of joy and relief in his eyes. It seemed being believed was something he needed.

“Yeh don’ have ter say yer sorry for yer grandmother’s wrongdoin’,” Hagrid told her. “And thank you. I don’ think anyone’s ever tol’ me tha’ before.” Amanda smiled. They both went on walking back toward the forest, reaching the treeline in just a few minutes.

After finding a flatter, more comfortable place to sleep, Hagrid set Jessica down tenderly. The werewolf still slept soundly. Amanda laid down next to her, pleased that werewolves put out so much body heat. Hagrid left, telling her he would be watching for sparks in case anything went wrong, and then she slept. Not comfortably, of course, but after the night she’d had, comfortable did not seem possible. 

Jessica shifted at dawn, waking Amanda. The Slytherin second year waited for her sister to shift and wake up, which was always a process. Thankfully, Jessica seemed more awake than usual after the full moon. 

“Amanda?” she asked, rubbing her eyes. 

“Good morning,” Amanda said. “You alright?” Jessica checked over her skin, which was mostly dirty, bruised and scratched. She shrugged. 

“I’ve felt worse,” she said. She stiffened, but still tried to act nonchalant. “Did you keep me from Hogwarts?” 

“Yes,” Amanda said, pretending not to notice her little sister’s exhaling relief. Suddenly her little sister brushed off a feather from her arm. And another. And another. 

“What in Merlin’s name…?” 

“You managed to reach Hagrid’s hut and, uh, murder a bunch of innocent roosters,” Amanda said, holding back a laugh as she smiled. Jessica looked at her with narrowed eyes. 

“Roosters? I killed the roosters?” she asked. 

“Apparently you were hungry for some chicken,” Amanda spoke, still amused at the sight of Jessica’s confusion. 

“Apparently…” her little sister muttered. 

“Do you remember why you went after the chickens?” Amanda pressed, getting to the serious, real reason she had wanted to stay with her little sister. Jessica shrugged. 

“No, it’s like always. Can’t remember a thing about last night,” Jessica sighed. Amanda’s shoulders fell. She was hoping there was some dark cloaked figure that said ‘Imperio’ involved. After all, she did not find it a coincidence that all the roosters on the property were killed just weeks after Bozhidar, a creature that could be killed by roosters, was obviously ordered to murder someone. Someone or something was preparing to let Bozhidar loose on the school, but it appeared either Jessica just didn’t remember, or she was barking up the wrong tree, and Jessica just had a strange ‘episode’ of full wolf. 

“Are...are Delilah and Audrey alright?” Jessica asked. Once again she tried to hide it, but there was no missing the concern in her stormy blue eyes. 

“They looked fine,” Amanda told her. “Come on, let’s get back to Hogwarts and ask them ourselves.” She stood and held out her hand. Jessica took it and stood, brushing herself off. 

Then, slowly, they made their way toward the castle.


	9. Is Anyone Else As Not Surprised As I Am?

Amanda, all things considered, was pretty happy when Halloween came. Despite meeting dead end after dead end on her mission to find the new Slytherin Heir, she was doing well in her classes. And her other problem, Jessica, had been so busy either off pranking with Fred and George or in her dormitory planning the pranks, she hardly hung around the Slytherins at all. It was the easiest solution to the ‘Jessica doesn’t belong in Slytherin’ dilemma. 

 

“Where is your sister anyways?” Pansy Parkinson asked over the loud Great Hall as she carefully took some potatoes for her plate. 

 

“I don’t even want to know,” Amanda said truthfully. 

 

“She’s probably getting another twenty points taken from Slytherin,” muttered Millicent. 

 

Pansy sighed. 

 

“We won’t win another House Cup for the next seven years at this rate,” the Parkinson whined. Amanda rolled her eyes. 

 

“Maybe. But at least she’s not here ruining Halloween,” Amanda spoke, sitting up tall and proud as if it were her doing. 

 

“Did you hear about Daphne’s sister?” Pansy asked, leaning in closer. Amanda glared over at the Greengrass, who had pointedly sat many seats away. 

“What, is she the next shining star?” Amanda hissed.

 

“Well maybe not now. Just yesterday I heard she had the nerve to say Muggleborns were worth mingling with in front of the Malfoy’s  _ and  _ my parents,” Pansy said, the glee of knowing something they didn’t clear on her face. 

 

“Your parents? What were they doing with the--” 

 

_ “...rip… tear… kill…” _

 

“Oh no,” Amanda gasped, her eyes wide.

 

“What?” Pansy asked. 

 

“I forgot something in the dormitory--something important--” Amanda said, scrambling out of the bench. 

 

_ “... so hungry...for so long…”  _

 

Amanda grit her teeth as she tried to calmly walk out of the Great Hall, suddenly very glad she left Salazar in the dungeon. It sounded like it was coming from the Entrance hall, which made her stomach drop. If there were students milling about over there...She tried not to think about it.

 

She broke into a run, jogging through the empty corridors as quietly as she could. Bozhidar had gone quiet for a moment. 

 

Then--

 

_ “...I smell blood… I  SMELL BLOOD!”  _

 

Amanda forced herself to go faster, trying to think about who it could have been, who could have set him on students like this--

 

“Amanda?” 

 

Amanda halted. Harry was before her, Hermione and Ron panting quickly behind him. 

 

“Did you see anything?” Amanda asked him.

 

“No, we’ve just come from downstairs,” Harry told her. Amanda resisted the urge to curse. “We should go to chamber, to see if--”

 

Hermione gasped. Amanda followed her gaze to the wall. Her shoulders fell. 

 

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE.

 

Below the words hung the small, fuzzy body of Mrs. Norris, held up on the torch bracket by her tail. Amanda took a few steps forward. 

 

“She’s not dead,” Amanda said with a sigh of relief. The cat was as stiff as stone with her eyes wide open. The Slytherin Heir glanced downward, noting the water on the floor. Reflection.

 

“What?” Hermione asked. 

 

“Petrification--if she were dead she wouldn’t be all stiff like that,” Amanda explained. 

 

“Let’s go,” Ron urged. Harry narrowed his eyes.

 

“Shouldn’t we try to help--”

 

“No, the feast is almost over and we don’t want to be seen--”

 

But it was far too late to flee. She could hear the chattering roar of the students as they crowded from either end of the corridor. Amanda contemplated shifting, vanishing before anyone saw her, a Slytherin with plenty of reason to kill Filch’s cat, standing at the crime scene. But she knew Hermione and Ron would have questions, and those questions could lead to Jessica’s exposure. So she kept herself rooted in her place as the noise in the corridors grew, then died. Everyone began to read the message on the wall. 

 

“Enemies of the Heir, beware! She’ll get you next, Mudbloods!” 

 

Amanda’s glare shot up so fast at him that he paled and ducked behind Crabbe and Goyle. She continued glaring at him, noting the other Slytherins and the grins they wore. She clenched her jaw and hoped they weren’t thinking what she expected them to. 

 

“What’s going on here? What’s going on?” 

 

Speaking of Filch, the unpleasant man was shoving his way through the crowd with a twisted face. When he saw the writing on the wall he stopped. When he saw his cat, the mangled scowl he usually wore broke away into what Amanda could only assume was sadness. 

 

“My cat! My cat! What happened to Mrs. Norris?” he shrieked. A stormy anger replaced the sadness as his eyes fell on Harry. 

 

“You!” he screeched. Amanda stepped in between them without thinking much of the consequences. 

 

“He didn’t do anything,” she hissed. 

 

“You?” Filch asked, dangerously quiet as he began to shake with anger. “Did you murder my cat?” 

 

“I--”

 

“Well of course she did! She’s the great  _ Slytherin Heir _ !” spoke Daphne. Amanda met her gaze and found only a smirk. Malfoy had announced as much because he was an idiot. Daphne was trying to see her punished. 

 

“ _ YOU _ !” Filch bellowed, taking a dangerous step forward. “You’ve killed her! I’ll kill you! I’ll--!”

 

“Argus!” 

 

Amanda wanted to either apparate or disappear. Albus Dumbledore had arrived, followed closely by Snape, McGonagall, Flitwick, and plenty of others. The elder wizard swiftly glided past Amanda and took the cat off of the wall. 

 

“Come with me Argus,” spoke the Headmaster. He turned to Amanda. “You, too, Miss Coppin, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger.” 

 

Lockhart appeared, eagerly making himself seen. “My office is nearest, Headmaster--just upstairs--please feel free--”

 

“Thank you, Gilderoy,” said Dumbledore, and hurried through the parting students toward the stairs. Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall followed him, Lockhart right on their heels with his head held proudly. 

Amanda exchanged a glance with Harry, who looked like he was about to be expelled. Then he led the way, right on the teachers trail. Amanda fell behind him, Ron and Hermione not far away. She made sure to give a very sharp, pointed glare at Daphne as she passed her. 

 

Everyone was quiet when they entered Lockhart’s office. Amanda tried to ignore the many Lockhart pictures hung on the walls, all as equally annoying as the actual person, who lit the candles while trying to hide a smile. 

 

As Dumbledore set Mrs. Norris on Gilderoy Lockhart’s now lit desk, Amanda sat down into a chair just outside the light of the candles. Harry sat beside her, once again followed by his friends. 

 

“Do you think they think it’s us?” whispered Harry as soon as he sat down. 

 

“They think it's me,” Amanda whispered back without looking away from the teachers.

 

“How do you know?” Harry asked. 

 

“I’m a Slytherin,  it’s not hard to figure out my bloodline goes directly back to Slytherin, and two people I associate with very closely just announced it to the entire school,” Amanda hissed back, watching Dumbledore carefully. She doubted she would get expelled or in trouble, they couldn’t prove she actually did anything. But that wouldn’t keep the Headmaster from questioning her about the Chamber or what was inside it.

 

“So you are a Slytherin Heir!” Ron said, almost a bit too loudly. 

 

“If you’re the Slytherin Heir, do you know what it meant by ‘the Chamber has been opened?’” Hermione whispered to her. Amanda looked at the muggleborn, seeing eyes that only burned with the desire to know. 

 

“Salazar Slytherin built a secret part of the castle to hide his familiar. Said familiar judged each Slytherin Heir that met him, and if he felt the Heir was worthy, would obey him or her and share his wisdom,” Amanda explained. “Some people say Slytherin meant one of his Heirs to open the Chamber and cleanse the school of muggleborns, which may have been true at one point but it isn’t anymore.”

 

“How do you know?” Ron asked. Amanda glared at him.

 

“My mother told me,” she said simply. 

Dumbledore stood from crouching over Mrs. Norris.

 

“She’s not dead, Argus,” spoke the Headmaster.

 

_ ‘Big shocker, _ ’ Amanda thought as Filch’s eyes widened.

 

“Not dead?” he choked out. “But why’s she all--all stiff and frozen?”

 

“She has been Petrified,” said Dumbledore.

 

“Ah! I thought so!” Lockhart exclaimed proudly. 

 

“But how, I cannot say…” Dumbledore went on, turning slowly to look at Amanda. The Slytherin Heir frowned. So he did know. 

 

“Yes, yes, ask  _ her _ !” Argus Filch shouted. “You heard what the students said,  _ she  _ did it!”

 

“Being a Slytherin does not make her guilty,” Snape spoke up, emerging from the shadows. 

 

“And it is foolish to believe the accusations of two children,” Snape continued. “Besides, Miss Coppin was at the Halloween Feast just minutes prior to the incident, it is unlikely she wrote those letters and Petrified Mrs. Norris in such time.” Amanda could practically see the questions in his eyes, questions he would not ask until they were alone together. 

 

Her Head of House turned his gaze to Harry. “Mr. Potter, however, wasn’t seen at the Halloween Feast at all.” 

 

The three Gryffindors quickly began a jumbled explanation of some Deathday party and how many ghosts could prove their alibi. Harry just couldn’t stop getting himself into impossible situations, it seemed.

 

“But why not join the feast afterward?” asked Snape, almost grinning with excitement. “Why go up to that corridor?” Amanda glared at Snape. 

 

“Because--” 

 

“Because I had asked Harry to check on something for me,” Amanda spoke, interrupting Harry. “Through Salazar. I told him to go to that corridor, and then Harry sent Salazar back with a message for me, telling me about the writing and the cat. So I went to see it for myself.” 

She was looking at Snape as she said this, silently urging him to stop his hunt for Harry’s expulsion. She was also acutely aware of Harry’s green eyes on her, most likely wondering why she was covering for him. 

 

“Salazar?” Professor McGonagall asked. 

 

“My glass snake, I inherited it from my mother. It can record things, talk to people, translate parseltongue, and recently I learned it can recognize certain dark magic,” Amanda spoke, making it up as she went. 

 

“Is that what you asked Potter to investigate?” McGonagall asked. Amanda nodded. 

 

“It isn’t the first time Harry and I have come across something like this. Earlier in the term, Salazar led us to another corridor on the second floor, so I knew he wouldn’t mind looking for it this time,” Amanda explained. The words came quite easily to her, although she was waiting for a teacher to catch her lie. 

 

“Why not go to a teacher about your findings?” Professor McGonagall asked. Amanda shrugged.

 

“There wasn’t anything there. I didn’t want to waste your time with the explanation that ‘my glass snake may or may not have found something fishy in that one corridor, but there’s nothing there,’” Amanda told them. Everyone was quiet, but they seemed to buy it, thank Merlin.

 

It wasn’t the best story and she was certain Snape saw right through it. Their next after-school magic lesson was not going to be fun.

 

“I find it unlikely Mr. Potter or Miss Coppin had anything to do with this Petrification,” spoke Dumbledore suddenly, giving a knowing look to Amanda that solidified her suspicions he knew far more than he let on. 

 

“My cat has been Petrified!” Filch cried. “I want to see some  _ punishment _ !”

 

“We will be able to cure her, Argus,” said Dumbledore. “Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris.” 

 

“I’ll make it,” Lockhart declared. “I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep--” 

 

“Excuse me, but I believe I am the Potions master at this school,” said Snape, ice in his voice. Amanda grinned as Lockhart expression fell to worry. 

 

“You may leave,” the Headmaster said to second years in the room. They all stood, hurrying out as quickly as they could. Amanda gave one last look to Snape before heading out, deep into thought. 

 

She followed the Gryffindors if only because she knew there would be questions about her Harry couldn’t answer. Both Ron and Hermione managed to hold it in down the whole corridor at least, before filing into an empty classroom. Amanda paused, sighed, desperately wished she could be anywhere but in that Slytherin-hate room, and went in.

 

Hermione and Ron jumped on her with questions, each talking over the other about what happened, what she did, and didn’t do. Amanda just stared at them, wondering if they were ever going to take a moment to breathe. 

 

“Guys, stop!” Harry ordered. They listened. “She is just as guilty as I am.” 

 

“How do you know that? She’s a Slytherin Heir, just like Malfoy and Greengrass said!” Ron shouted.

 

“Since when have they ever told the truth?” Harry argued. “If she really was some evil Slytherin Heir, why would she have helped us get the Stone last term? Plus she just saved me from getting  _ expelled _ .” Harry’s green eyes were alight with anger. It melted Amanda’s heart to see him defending her so determinately. 

 

“But why would two of your best friends accuse you of being the Slytherin Heir?” Hermione asked. 

 

“Daphne is  _ not  _ my friend. If it weren’t for me, she would be bringing her family the honorable match of Draco Malfoy, and she’s bitter that I am so coveted just because of the fact I can speak to snakes. This was just an opportunity to get me into trouble. Draco, on the other hand, probably thought I did it, or hoped I did. The whole of Slytherin House thinks I need to be more of a bully like them, less kind to half-bloods and muggleborns. They must see this as a sign that I’ve changed for the ‘better.’” Amanda gave a disgusted look. As cunning as the Slytherins seemed to be, they were not smart enough to see what ‘better’ really meant. 

“Who else could it be?” Hermione asked. Amanda was thankful she wasn’t being accusatory, at least. 

 

“Harry and I have been doing all we can to figure it out. We’ve been  _ trying,  _ but there aren’t any clues at all, other than lineages, which, I mean, it’s a known fact there aren’t any Slytherin Heirs left in England, aside from me.” 

 

“What about your sisters?” Ron asked. “They could be Heirs too.” 

 

“Have you ever heard of the Arisio family, Ron?” Amanda asked, an edge to her voice at having to explain this  _ again _ . 

 

Ron shrugged. “May have heard it once or twice--”

 

“They have family magic like Slytherin does.  _ Matriarchal  _ family magic that captures other family magics, preserves them in their most purified state, and carries them through every generation. So, centuries ago when an Arisio got together with a Slytherin Heir--”

 

“Your family kept the Slytherin magic, like Parseltongue,” Hermione explained. 

 

“Not my family,” Amanda corrected, “the  _ Heir _ .  _ Only  _ the Heir. Usually the first born girl of the family. So only _ I _ can have these powers, only  _ I  _ can be the Slytherin Heir.” 

 

“First born? Wouldn’t that mean Elena?” Harry pointed out. Amanda shook her head. 

 

“No, she’s my half--” Amanda stopped. Elena was Adrianna’s daughter too. “… sister.”

 

“What?” Harry asked. 

 

“I never considered a Slytherin Heir could be in any house but Slytherin, but--that’s-that’s not it, I didn’t even consider that Elena could be a Slytherin Heir at  _ all _ \--” Amanda’s mind spinning with possibilities, possibilities she couldn’t even wrap her head around.

 

“For magics like that to work, there’s usually rituals, a contract, something to completely sign over all magic and inheritance to a single person,” Hermione pointed out.

 

“I know, and I  _ got  _ those rituals right before Mom died, but--”

 

“Then you’re the only Slytherin Heir, right?” Hermione asked. Amanda just clenched her jaw. That logic made sense, but Elena was born at a time Adrianna thought she wouldn’t have another child. A time when Adrianna would have considered Elena the only option to being an Heir. If something happened before Amanda was born…

 

“This was Dark Magic, you think Elena has it in her to Petrify a cat?” Ron asked simply. Amanda sighed. 

 

“No,” Amanda said. “Why would she wait until Salazar’s familiar accepted her as an Heir when she knows all those old, intricate spells that could just flat out kill Mrs. Norris without a trace?” Plus she’s not the evil type.” 

 

At least, that’s what Amanda hoped. Something told her that Elena wasn’t the one doing this. It didn’t make any sense if she was. However, if Amanda’s theory was correct, she had still lied to Amanda, and she wanted to know why. 

 

“So...what now?” Harry asked. He looked at her like he was waiting for orders, which made Amanda’s thoughts disappear. She sighed, letting most of her pent up tension out.

 

“I need to ask Elena something tomorrow, see if I can’t get any information from her,” Amanda said. “After that, we just need to find this Heir before something worse than Petrification happens.” 

 

“Worse?” Ron asked. 

 

“Yes, worse,” Amanda snapped. “If you really want to know more, just ask Hagrid. Right now, I need to go deal with something.” 

 

“Daphne?” Harry asked. Amanda looked at him sharply, trying to decide how he felt about her revenge plan. 

 

“She tried to have me expelled,” Amanda spoke for her defence. Harry paused, then nodded, as if thinking better about what he was going to say. She wanted to contemplate that action, but quickly shoved it out of her thoughts. 

 

“You need to go before Snape tries to have you expelled for staying up past curfew,” Amanda told them. “If you find anything, tell me.” 

 

He gave her a firm nod, which she returned before turning on her heel back down the corridor toward the dungeons. For a moment, as she walked, she was furious at herself for not telling Harry thank you or sorry for being dragged into her problem. But then she smiled. Harry was defending her against Ron, as much as he could. He was honoring their agreement. There was  _ progress _ . 

 

It was quiet and dark within the dungeons, and she was not at all surprised to see Theo emerge from the darkness, moving to stand in between her and the Slytherin common room entrance.

 

“Amanda--”

 

She went around him. 

 

“Amanda!” he groaned, rushing to run in front of her again. That time she stopped.

 

“I don’t care that you have a schoolboy crush on her little sister, she needs to pay,” Amanda snarled. Theo’s eyes flashed with more anger (and embarrassment) than she had ever seen. 

 

“That has nothing to do with this! You could ruin your entire reputation over this!” 

 

“How is this any different than what I did to Draco and Flint? If I remember right, you  _ approved  _ that time.” 

 

“They deserved it, they were just being cruel,” Theo began.

 

“So was Daphne,” she spat back, trying to swerve around him again. He stopped her.

 

“Amanda, listen! There are politics involved now! This isn’t you disciplining Slytherins, this is you publicly declaring that they were right all along about you,” Theo explained. Amanda narrowed her eyes.

 

“Right about what?” she demanded.

 

“That you aren’t a true Slytherin,” Theo began. Amanda groaned. Before she could say anything, he rushed to say, “Daphne isn’t stupid, this is what she wants. For you to claim you didn’t do it because it’s evil, and then suddenly you look like you’re siding with squibs and muggleborns, and suddenly she is responsible for showing the true intentions of the great Arisio Heir. It’s what she’s always wanted.” Amanda glared at him.

 

“No, I’m not gonna let her get away with this,” Amanda hissed. 

 

“But, Amanda--”

 

“You think I should just walk in there straight up to my dormitory and pretend like nothing happened?” Amanda hissed. “Then they’ll call me a pushover! Coward!” The words tasted awful on her lips.

 

“No, no, I just don’t want you to deny that you’re the one who Petrified the cat,” Theo spoke. Amanda stopped. There was an idea forming in her head that followed Theo’s instructions. But at the same time, a part of her was clawing to get free and absolutely crush the girl who dared defy her crown. 

 

“Look,” Theo said after a few moments, “is Filch’s cat really worth throwing what you’ve built away?” Amanda shifted. Mrs. Norris really wasn’t worth it, if she were honest with herself.   
  


“What about what I said, Theo? I told them not to go terrorizing muggleborns, but if I just let them believe this, then I look like an indecisive leader at best,” Amanda pointed out. Theo looked down, thinking his way out of the problem. Amanda suddenly realized how much better he seemed from when he arrived at Hogwarts. The bags under his eyes had disappeared, he was gaining at least a little color in his skin, and his eyes were bright, not the dull, lifelessness she had seen before. Hopefully it meant the sorrow linked to the death of his mother almost six months ago was beginning to fade.

 

“Ambiguity,” Theo said finally, meeting her gaze. “If you just don’t say one way or the other, then anything anyone decides is just a matter of opinion. They’ll be divided long enough for you to capture the real culprit and show them how Slytherins are supposed to act. It’ll prove your dominance, and keep your cunning reputation at the same time, keep them thinking you’re always one step ahead of them.” 

 

Amanda contemplated the plan. 

 

“It’ll work,” she decided, “but I am not going to do nothing.” She spun on her heel and glided straight to the door, pausing for a single breath before going in. 

 

The room went quiet when she entered, students from all crevices of the room moving their gazes to her. She didn’t care, her sharp, barbed glare went straight to Daphne. The Greengrass was grinning like the devil she was. There was also a wand in her hand. 

 

Perfect. She grabbed her own wand from her robe, the students took a giant step back, Daphne raised her wand--

 

“ _ Expelliarmus _ !” Amanda hissed, and Daphne’s wand flew straight into her own. 

 

“Hey!” Daphne shouted. 

 

“Do you think your parents would enjoy having to buy you a new wand?” Amanda asked coldly, grabbing it with her second hand as if threatening to break it.

 

“You’re going to break my wand just because I stated the truth?” Daphne asked, fury in her eyes.

 

“No, you almost got me  _ expelled. _ If Harry Potter hadn’t covered for me, I would be on the train home. See what happens when you make powerful friends? I suppose I’ll have to get more, seeing as you lot are all worthless.” She gestured dismissively at everyone in the room.

 

“What did we do?” asked a random student as the rest of the room sat up, defensive.

 

“Exactly, you did nothing,” Amanda said sharply.

 

“She spoke the truth, you are the Slytherin Heir,” spoke another student, shrugging.

 

“Perhaps, but whether or not I Petrified that cat, it wouldn’t exactly be all that clever to announce it to the whole school, would it?” Amanda snapped, the sarcasm dripping from her voice as she chose her words cautiously, careful not to claim something she wanted no part of. Her housemates were quiet, as if suddenly remembering that cunning was apart of who they were as a house.

 

“The teachers can’t prove anything, it’s just rumors and dead ends thanks to Harry. But in the meantime, if any of you wish to go around flaunting my family name, remember that I’m not some pushover second year,” Amanda threatened, then turned swiftly.

 

“Hey, give me my wand back!” Daphne demanded. Amanda smirked.

 

“Maybe in a few days,” Amanda sneered, then marched up to her dormitory as she left the common room to silence. She found it especially amusing that Daphne knew she was far too outmatched to brawl Amanda for her own wand. 

 

As she sat on her bed a few minutes later after having safely hidden the wand, she wished two things. One, that she didn’t share a dormitory with Daphne Greengrass, and two, that she could just come clean, shout at them all for being glad that she had Petrified the cat. Acting like it was all some game to them, like this whole thing certainly wouldn’t end in death. But Amanda knew it would, and she didn’t want that on her hands, even if it wasn’t really her. 

 

She sighed and fell into her bed. Tomorrow, she could do something about it. Tomorrow she could ask Elena what she knew and didn’t know, and ask her for help. Then she could search on her own. 

 

She just hoped she found the other Heir before things went from bad to impossibly irreversible.


End file.
